


Music To The Ears

by Fairylights4672



Category: The Maze Runner Series - James Dashner
Genre: And a huge flirt, And theres arguing, Bands, Brenda won't take your shit, Cuz your bitch aint about that boring life, Gally's a prick, Highschool AU, Literally they're just in a band, M/M, Minho's Sassy. Obviously, Music. Yes., Newt's smol, Teresa won't either, They never go to class, Thomas is just competitive, Unless it's necessary, and competition, but he aint taking your shit, duh - Freeform, help what is this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-12
Updated: 2018-05-29
Packaged: 2019-04-22 03:30:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 41
Words: 50,650
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14299809
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fairylights4672/pseuds/Fairylights4672
Summary: When Newt joined a performing arts school, he had no intent on making friends. He wanted to get his grades, and go. Move on, and become something professional, like a designer or an artist. He certainly had no intent on joining a band. Nor did he have any intent on it becoming more than just a hobby. And most of all, he had absolutely no intent of falling in love.But, as Thomas would say, "Shit Happens."





	1. One

Newt shifted the stick into drive, winking at his sister as he pulled out from in front of her school. She flipped him off and jogged up the stairs, the boy flicking down his sunglasses and putting his foot down. He groaned at the time flashing on the dash, almost accidentally running a red light in his rush to get to his first day on time. He drummed his thumbs on the wheel, silently begging the light to flicker to green. As soon as it did, he sped off, skidding into the parking lot of the school. He jumped out, clumsily shoving his bag over his shoulder, and heading inside. He was just on time. 

Inside, it was as most highschools were. White halls, lockers lining the walls and doors into classrooms peppering in between them. It was flooded with students, and the first thing Newt noticed, was the attitude. The way the students carried themselves, and seemingly just let each other slip along parallel with each other. They co-existed, and right off the bat, Newt could sense no tension or hierarchy within them. They stayed in their groups and let each other get on with theres. Newt supposed it made a nice change from his old school.

Fumbling, he grabbed his schedule from his back pocket, smoothing out the paper and identifying where his first class was. It wasn't exactly a hard place to manoeuvre around, and he slipped in-between the groups until he found his classroom. If the rest of his day could go that smoothly, Newt would be happy.

He didn't want friends. He didn't want any drama, or _anything_ that would distract him from his education. He wouldn't join any clubs unless they looked good on his CV, and he wouldn't talk to anyone unless it was absolutely necessary. Being an introvert, the idea of being on his own seemed rather appealing, and perfectly reasonable to him. He just wanted to get good grades and get out of the hell hole called school. What he certainly didn't want, was his best friend to be in any of his classes with him. But of course, fate was always against him, as he discovered when Minho slammed his stuff down in the seat next to him.

Minho was a muscular boy of asian descent, he ran track and did every sport club he could manage. He had dark eyes, that could figure someone out in less than two seconds, and wether or not they were cool enough to hang out with him. Newt was not, but Minho and he had met when they were seven, and had stayed in contact ever since, even when Newt had moved back to England for a few years. Newt was surprised. He hadn't imagined Minho would want to be seen dead with someone as uncool as the blond was, but then the bittersweet reminder that there was seemingly no hierarchy came flooding back.

"Newt!" The asian smacked him on the back, straddling the chair next to him. 

"Hi Min'. Been a while, huh?" He made pleasant conversation. He had nothing against Minho, he would even consider him a best friend, but the blond had vowed to himself that nothing would get in the way of his studies.

"Yeah man. Almost didn't recognise you. You're looking good." He laughed softly. Newt couldn't help but roll his eyes as he took out his books and pen, before slinging his bag on the floor. His friend watched for a moment before copying.

"Not lookin' too shabby yourself mate." he shrugged.

"How's 'merica treatin' ya?" He asked, clicking his pen absentmindedly.

"Still as free as I remember." He earned a scoff. 

"Hows Sonya settlin' in?" 

"Fine. Yeah she's good. Made some friends over summer, so she has someone to go too." Newt shrugged, watching as students flooded the room.

"Good that." Minho nodded in approval. For a moment, he stopped, and the blond assumed the conversation was over. But it was Minho, no conversation with Minho was ever over. "You got anyone to hang with at lunch?" He asked.

"Well, I was actually thinking of spendin' it in the library." He shrugged truthfully. The asian scoffed, just like he thought he would.

"Yeah, that's not happenin'. Come on Newtie, let me introduce you to my friends." he leant toward the blond, lowering his voice as the teacher began to talk.

"No thanks Min'. I appreciate it, but I seriously just want focus on studying this year." he sighed.

"Oh come on. It's one lunch, please Newt? You don't have to be friends with them. I just want you to know them. Pretty please." he pouted and gave the blond his best puppy eyes.

"You're insufferable." He groaned, giving in.

-

Minho swaggered into the cafeteria, the blond following with an eye roll. He watched as people eyed the asian, clearly envious of the amount of swagger he possessed. Newt couldn't help but chuckle at the thought of Minho sobbing over not getting a flake in his ice cream when he was eight. The boy in front of him spotted the group he was looking for, sauntering over to them.

"Hey fuckers." he greeted them, swinging one leg over the bench, next to a girl. "This is Newt." he nodded toward the blond behind him. "Newt," he pointed to the girl next to him. "This is Teresa." Teresa glanced up at him, sending him a soft smile. She had long dark hair, and pale skin, undeniably beautiful. The sharpness in her eyes showed Newt that she was more than gorgeous, and probably incredibly intelligent. "Brenda." he motioned to a second girl. Brenda had shorter hair, darker skin and darker eyes. Also gorgeous, but this time with an aura of mischief around her. She grinned up at the blond, biting down on her lip subconsciously. "And Thomas." Minho nodded toward a third person, and the blond stopped because _good god._

Newt was pretty sure he had been blessed by the gods, and wanted to thank the heavens and Minho for persuading him to come to that table. The boy he made eye contact had dark brown eyes that anyone could drown in, soft tousled hair that Newt found himself wanting to run his hands through, dimples that could possibly kill, a muscular build that took Newt's breath away, and a smile that could outshine the fucking sun.

"Hi." he mumbled, eyes immediately shooting to the floor.

"Oh come on Newtie, chill out. When did you get so nervous, they're just my friends." Minho scoffed, tugging him down next to him.

"Well yeah..but I think one person like you is enough." he hissed. The three others cracked up, and the blond earned a punch to the arm.

"So, are you from England?" Brenda asked, chewing on a sandwich and staring at him with attentive eyes.

"Well no shit Bren', no he's from fucking Texas." The other girl rolled her eyes. Brenda threw a chip at her, glaring with a pout.

"No, yeah I am." The blond scoffed softly, attempting to avoid interaction with Thomas at all costs.

"Have you met the queen?" Brenda asked. Teresa groaned, putting her head in her hands.

"Ignore her Newt. She's incredibly thick." she glowered at her friend. Newt glanced at Minho for approval that this kind of teasing was usual. The eye roll he got back confirmed it.

"Teresa!" Thomas gasped, holding his hands over Brenda's ears in fake shock. She batted his hands away. "We don't use that word. It's called being dense." he rolled his eyes.

"I'm not dense!" Brenda punched his arm, before wincing in pain and cracking her knuckles. "Jesus Thomas, are you made from fucking stone?" She glowered at him.

"Well, I'm pretty sure half of the girls in this shuck school think he's been carved by the Gods." Minho scoffed, stealing one of Brenda's chips.

"Only if they knew how much of a pain in the ass he truly is." Teresa kicked her friend under the table. Newt groaned inwardly when he found that he wouldn't mind coming back to the table the day after. But, he tried to convince himself that having friends was fine, as long as he dedicated _most_ of his time to studying.

"So Newt," Thomas's smooth voice brought him back to reality, and back to trying to contain his hammering heart. "What classes are you takin'?"

"Well..uh.." he swallowed, "digital design, and drawing and painting." he murmured.

"Ah, an art one huh?" the brunette smirked softly, meeting the blonds eye.

"Yeah. You guys doing music like Min'?" He asked softly, avoiding Thomas's eye. The boy leant back, stretching and glancing around the room.

"Sure are."

"That's cool."

"What music do you like?" Teresa asked, putting her chin in her hand.

"Well, I like a lot. Pretty much everything really. I like playing music, but it's more of a hobby than something I'd want to pursue." he picked at his nails.

"Do you play?" Thomas asked.

"I-" The shrill rung of the bell had the student body moving as one, all standing from their seats and swinging their bags over their shoulders. Newt grabbed his bag and glanced down at his schedule. When he glanced back up, Thomas was in front of him.

"You dropped this." He handed him back Newt's pen, which the blond was 100% sure he had not dropped. Still, he took it back in confusion and surprise.

"Oh, thanks."

"You gonna come 'round here tomorrow?" The brunette asked, running a hand through his hair.

"We'll see." Newt shrugged. 

"Yes we will. Nice meeting' ya blondie." Thomas smacked his shoulder lightly, before sauntering away with Minho by his side. The blond groaned. _Men._


	2. Two

Newt shut his locker, glancing up toward the main door to the school. As it happened, Minho and the others that he had met the day before were sauntering in.The whole corridor seemingly turned to look at them. There was no hierarchy, but it seemed that some members of the student body were certainly looked up too. Newt opened his locker again, trying his best to stay out of the line of sight. His new plan was just to stay out of the way and keep out of Minho's, or any of the other's peripheral. He knew he'd only get pulled into other things, that weren't his studies, and he couldn't let that happen. He fumbled about with his books, praying that they could go by without disturbing him. Then, his locker door was slammed shut, the blond having to snatch his hands backward to avoid them getting caught in it.

"Minho!" He glowered at the asian, who crossed his arms over his chest and leant against the locker door, stopping Newt from opening it again.

"Newt, are you tryna avoid me?" He gave the blond his puppy eyes, the other three drawing up next to him. "you didn't respond to any of my texts last night."

"Because I was studying, and you were texting me about things I didn't have any interest in." the blond snapped back.

"Oh so you saw them?"

"Yeah I did, but theres only so much Minho I can take in one day before I wanna slam my head against a wall." he retorted. The three behind him burst into snickers.

"I like you Newt." Brenda laughed softly.

"Yeah yeah, he's fucking great." Minho sulked.

"Aww, you almost look as sad as you did when you got your toy car taken away by the smallest boy in our year when we were ten." Newt smiled sweetly, his best friend turning the shade of a tomato.

"What?!" Teresa barked out a laugh. "If you tell me you have memories from when Min' was young, I will love you forever." 

"Teresa, stop flirting with the british boy." Thomas shot her a look, to which she replied with by a choke on her own tongue.

"Tom! Hell no." she scoffed. "I mean, no offence Newt, you're cute, but I think I'm gettin' some vibes off you." She explained as the bell rang, group beginning to walk. To Newt's dismay, he had class down the same corridor and so was forced to follow.

"Vibes? What vibes?" The blond frowned.

"Teresa we've known him for a day, don't freak him out with your scarily accurate gaydar." Thomas groaned.

"You think I'm gay?" Newt blinked causing the girl to swing around challengingly.

"Am I wrong?" She crossed her arms over her chest and put her weight on one hip. Thomas glowered at her.

"Teresa don't be rude." He turned to Newt, sending him a reassuring smile. The blond returned it with a small smile and a glance to the floor.

"I appreciate the concern Tommy, but she's right." he shrugged, sauntering past them and starting up the stairs. The four looked after him, dumbfounded and slightly bewildered, for a moment.

"Wait..Tommy?" Thomas blinked at him. The blond just shot him a sweet smile before disappearing out of view.

-

'What was that?" Minho slammed his books down next to the blond, who sighed.

"What was what?"

" _That_. You were flirting with Thomas." The asian accused, sitting down. Newt scoffed.

"No I was not. I was having a conversation. Am I not allowed to do that?" He raised his eyebrows in defence. Minho just exhaled frustratedly and began searching around in his bag for a pen. Newt produced one and handed it to his friend. The dark haired boy glared at him in gratitude, something that Newt had had to become accustomed with over the years: That Minho's ways of showing his thanks were almost completely the opposite of what you would expect.

"You're coming with us to the music rooms after school." He announced.

"No I'm not. I need to study." The blond said firmly.

"You studied last night."

"And I gotta tonight too." 

"Ok Newt, seriously? Are we gonna have to have a chat about living life? This is your last year of high school, and we have plenty of time to study. But seriously dude, you need to learn to live a little."

"I am Min'."

"No you're not. I know you Newt, and I know your plan was to come here, without friends, get good grades and go. But you can't do that. That's so lonely. And theres nothing wrong with living a little. You just need a balance, and right now you dome have that. Come on now, we both know unbalanced things are unhealthy." He leant back in his chair, smirking in triumph. The blond watched him for a while, thinking over his words. Then he groaned.

"Fine."

'Yes!"

"But it's one time. This doesn't mean I'm going to be friends with them, and it doesn't mean I'm going to slack off. Good that?"

"Yeah yeah. Got it."

-

Minho shoved open the door to one of the practice rooms in the music block. Thomas was sat behind a drum set, spinning around the drumsticks between his fingers. Teresa was on her phone, sat before a keyboard, and Brenda was leant against a radiator, drumming out a random beat on it. 

"Well well well, look who finally decided to show." the short haired girl straightened up.

"Yeah yeah, Newt takes his god damn time walking places." the asian rolled his eyes, grabbing a guitar from a stand.

"Like that's my fault." the blond rolled his eyes.

"What's the salamander doin' here anyway?" Teresa grinned up at him.

"I made him come. Maybe we can get him to loosen up a bit." Minho laughed, sauntering behind him and squeezing his shoulders, imitating a massage. The blond swatted his hands away, straddling a chair to the side. 

"What do you guys do anyway? You just play together or?" He asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Well kinda. Guess some would call us a band." Teresa shrugged, running a hand down the keys.

"Well, you can hardly ever hear us over Thomas's drumming." Minho rolled his eyes, plugging in the guitar to the amp.

"Maybe you should play louder then." Thomas retorted, stopping the spinning and slamming the drumsticks into the skin of the drum with a smile. Minho rolled his eyes and ran a finger down the strings, plucking each one as he did.

"So you write your own songs?" Newt asked.

"Bren' does, she's a pretty good writer." Teresa shrugged. The blond nodded softly, passing her a look of impressiveness. She smiled back at him, rolling her eyes and blushing lightly.

"Well, can we get this show on the road? We've got two weeks." Thomas rolled his shoulder back.

"Two weeks till what?" The blond asked.

"The schools putting together a band for a competition, auditions are in two weeks. We're hoping we can all get in, so that our little thing here can actually get somewhere." Teresa explained. "They're looking for a singer," she motioned to Brenda, "a guitarist." she threw a hand toward Minho, "a drummer," she nodded back toward Thomas, "a keyboardist," she gestured to the keys in front of her, "and a bassist. We don't have one of those, but as long as the one they choose is cool, which all bass players seem to be, they won't bother us too much." She shrugged.

"Sounds cool." Newt nodded.

"I wanted you here to get an outsiders opinion." Minho explained.

"Right. Well I'm sure I can give you an opinion. Doesn't sound too taxing."

"Good."


	3. Three

Thomas span the drumsticks around in his fingers for a second longer, before hitting them against the skin of the drum, beginning to hit out a steady beat. Minho readjusted the strap of his guitar and began to pluck at the strings, focusing on his chords, whilst also making it look like the easiest thing to do in the world. At the same time, Teresa kicked, fingers sliding seamlessly along the keys, evident she had done it many times before. Once everyone got caught up on the steady pace, the drummer began to kick up the heat, getting a little more risky with the beats he was hitting out. Brenda cleared her throat, shooting Thomas a warning look to keep within the beat of the song. And then she began to sing.

Her voice was surprisingly raspy, not what Newt had expected. It was smooth enough to fool anyone into thinking she sounded like any other girl, some notes coming out smooth like honey, but around the edges it seemed, rough. Every now and then she'd roll her r's or catch a growl at the back of her throat, making her voice seem utterly unique and, honestly, _perfect_ for the way the others were playing.

Minho kept plucking flawlessly, grinning every time Brenda hit a note he was particularly pleased with. Teresa swayed softly at the keys, chords coming out smooth, but electronic, again, giving the sound edge. Thomas kept up the beat, adding little flourishes whenever he felt it needed it, and whilst it seemed to annoy the others, Newt thought it helped. After all, the drummers job wasn't just to keep the beat up, they had as much talent to show off as anyone else in the band.

They ended with a imperfect chord, the four of them immediately glancing up at the blond for his reaction. Newt sat back, humming in approval.

"Jesus, that was..I mean it was amazing." he scoffed, the group relaxing and cracking into sly grins. The blond leant forward, pointing a finger toward the keyboardist. "Teresa, that was amazing. The electronic sound you're producing, it seriously adds the edge that makes you guys unique," The girl seemed taken aback that he had actual constructive things to say instead of 'that was great' or 'you guys are really good'. "But, you're talented, it's really easy to see. You're comfortable, too comfortable. Add your own little flourishes every now and then, add a harmony, but you gotta make sure you stick out. Everyone in a band has to stick out." he explained. She nodded softly, smiling at her lap at the compliments.

"Min'" the blond moved on. "You're great, seriously, you're a natural." he grinned, the asian rolling his eyes in gratitude once again, "but you need to take it up, put a bit more grit in there. Maybe you could hit an imperfect harmony, or a three part or somethin', cuz the grit is what makes you guys unique and you all need to have it. Come on Minho, I know how rebellious you can be, show it in your music man." He tested. Minho glowered at him, silently taking it as a challenge. Good. Exactly what Newt wanted.

"Tommy you're fucking good. Like holy shit," he laughed softly, "I get that the drums can be overpowering, so try to keep the volume to the level you were playing there, but the flourishes were great. We need more of that." he pointed toward the drummer.

"Thank you!" He grinned exasperatedly, clearly glad someone was finally agreeing with him.

"Add more bass drum. If you don't have a bassist, the only thing making that noise is you, so there needs to be more. Bass carries songs." he shrugged, turning to Brenda.

"Holy shit." he grinned, dropping his pointing finger with  flourish to add to his point. "Brenda, you're amazing! Your voice is so unique, and perfect for this. I mean some of those notes you hit, _damn_. But thats the only thing, you looked too comfortable. I can see you can do better, you can push more, go higher. When you're auditioning, push it to the max. You need to show off if you wanna get through." he explained, leaning back.

"Damn." Minho scoffed softly, "Thanks Newt. That was actually really helpful. Do you think you can come back tomorrow?" He asked. Immediately, the blond went to say yeah, but caught his tongue, glare shooting down Minho's look of hope and mischief.

"Please Newt, you're really helpful." Teresa pleaded. The blond let his shoulders drop, sighing exasperatedly.

"Maybe. We'll see."

-

Newt slung his bag over his shoulder, ready to head toward the parking lot when a hand found the door handle before his. Thomas smiled at him, opening it and letting him go out first. Newt could already feel a small blush rising to his cheeks, so he kept his eyes on the ground.

It wasn't that he liked Thomas. He had only known him a day, of course he didn't. He didn't even know anything about the boy, just that he was a drummer and was popular. And completely out of Newt's league. Not that he was looking anyway, he didn't have a crush. The blond just had an annoying habit of getting nervous around boys he thought were cute, and he was constantly berating himself for it. It didn't exactly help him seem cool, calm or collected, and honestly squished any chances he had of getting a boyfriend. Not that he wanted one, because all his time was going to be spent studying, and being in a relationship would just be inconvenient.

"You going to the parking lot?" Thomas asked, already falling into step with the blond.

"Yes. I am going to the _car park."_ He smirked smugly.

"Alright mate." he scoffed. "So, Tommy huh?" it was his turn to plaster a small smirk on his lips as Newt glanced down in embarrassment. 

"Suits you." he shrugged meekly.

"I like it. Suppose I could let you keep it." he teased, getting a half-hearted shove to the shoulder in response. "Nah I'm kidding. It's cute. I do like it." he chuckled softly, before slamming into a body. The brunette stumbled backward, almost into his accomplice, as the girl tripped backward. She managed to keep her footing, glancing upward with wide eyes.

Newt was as straight as a circle, but he could appreciate a beautiful girl when he saw one. And this girl was most certainly beautiful. She had mousy brown hair which flew over her shoulder in a loose plait, large blue eyes and rosy skin, which only became more rosier when she realised who she'd bumped into.

"T..Thomas! I'm..I'm s..so so sorry..I didn't see you there!" her voice came out in a squeak.

"No no, sorry 'bout that sweetheart, that was my fault. Should've watched where I was goin'. Hope I didn't hurt you." He flashed a soft grin at the flustered girl, Newt trying his hardest not to actually pull a face of disgust. Sometimes straight people confused him.

"N..No! No never. Sorry." the girl his behind her fringe.

"Well, I should probably get going, nice meetin' ya darling." he smiled, swaggering off, leaving the girl practically melting in a pile on the floor. Newt glanced after his new friend, finally scrunching up his nose in disgust before going after him.

"Straight people scare me." he muttered under his breath, Thomas barking out a laugh.

"It's called being a flirt, not called being straight. I gotta reputation to uphold." he shrugged, pushing open the door of the school.

"Well it's weird. Why even bother, not like you like them. Do you even know her name?" He asked, struggling slightly to keep up with Thomas's pace.

"You don't need to like someone to flirt with them." he shrugged, subconsciously slowing down for the blond.

"I would." he frowned.

"Why?"

"Well, in case I hurt someone." Newt shrugged. Thomas just hummed in acknowledgement as they stepped off the curb into the parking lot.

"Ya know, you know a shit ton about music for an art student." he dug his car keys out of his back pocket.

"Like I said, it's a hobby." they stopped, having reached Thomas's car.

"So you play?" Thomas asked, shoving his hands in his pockets, making it clear that he had time to chat. 

"Yeah, when I find the time." the blond shrugged back.

"What do you play?" The drummer asked, leaning back against his car. Newt chewed on his lip for a moment, choosing his words very carefully so as not to get dragged into anything.

"Well, what do you think I play?" He asked, stepping backward.

"I don't know, may-"

"Ah ah ah. Guess." The blond smirked smugly, beginning to walk backward in the direction of his car. "See ya tomorrow Tommy." he turned on his heel and sauntered off. Tomorrow. He was going to see Tommy tomorrow. So much for staying away. Dammit.

 


	4. Four

Thomas had his arms crossed over his chest, staring at Newt with his jaw set in thought. The blond had sat himself down at the drum set, waiting for the other three to make their way to the practice room. It was the day after, and he had been convinced to come back to watch their practice again. He still wasn't happy about it, but didn't mind as much when he'd discovered he could still get in about two hours of studying, even when going to practice.

"Not drums." The brunette decided. Newt cocked his head to the side, watching his new friend in question.

"Oh yeah? Why not?"

"You don't look natural behind a drum set. Usually a natural drummer will move their legs into the normal position, and you didn't." he shrugged, before pushing off on the wall and striding over to the blond. "Let me see your hands?" He asked. Newt scoffed softly, holding out his hands for analysis.

"Analytical aren't you?" He asked, as Thomas pulled on his fingers and bent them to see how they moved. Then he tested the space between each finger, and how far out Newt's thumb could stretch out. He was soft with his work, making a point not to put any unnecessary pressure on his hands, and making sure to watch the blonds face for any sign of discomfort.

"I suppose." he murmured back, before letting go of his hands and slumping into a chair opposite him. "You're an odd one Newt."

"Am I?" he frowned softly, running a hand through his hair. "How so?"

"Well, you talk quite a bit, but never actually give anyone any more information. All I know about you is that you're a gay, British, art student, who plays an instrument of some sort."

"Well all I know about you is that you're an American music student, who plays drums and knows his way around with the ladies." the blond retorted.

"But isn't it about what you can infer?" Thomas challenged, leaning back in his chair.

"I can infer that you do sport, run track and other things probably, considering the fact you're a similar build to Minho. You're smart, or, mathematical at least, because I saw the workings out of how much your gas cost on your dashboard in your car yesterday. You have a job at the small cafe on the corner, you have your name tag in the front pocket of your bag, it was open. You're not poor, your car was new, the registration plate said so. And new Lexus's aren't cheap." he listed off. Thomas blinked, dumbfounded for a moment, opening and closing his mouth like a fish.

"I'm the analytical one?!" he spluttered.

"I'm not being analytical. I'm being observational." Newt shrugged. "You're smart Tommy, come on, you must have inferred something from me." he challenged lightly. The drummer furrowed his brow for a moment, before smirking softly.

"Well, you don't do track, in fact I don't think you do sport at all. You don't seem to eat too often, so maybe that's why you're so skinny. You have a sister, because you smiled when Teresa was talking about hers the other day. You're smart, really smart, I can see that in your eyes, the way you look at things. You limp, and you're ashamed of it, because you never mention it or ask anyone to cut you some slack because of it." He shrugged. Newt watched him for a second, nodding slowly.

"See? You're analytical. You watch people and notice different details about them, like the way their eyes change. I'm observational, I notice the physical things about a person." he explained.

"Huh. Suppose I never thought about the difference. Everyday's a school day I suppose." Thomas chuckled.

"God how did I get here?" The blond groaned, running a hand over his face. He'd been back at school for three days and he was already exhausted. Homework had already been piled onto him, add that onto studying and now _band practice_ for two days running, he was starting to feel the toll. But, he couldn't find the strength to draw himself away from going back to the practice room. He'd felt something there.

Newt had never truly felt apart of something. When he moved back to England, he had no one. Everyone saw him as that one weird kid who had come from America. He was too American for the British, and too British for the Americans. So, he had decided it would be better to keep to himself. To give himself a pat on the back himself when no one else would, and push himself when no one else would.

But in the practice room the day prior, he had felt, happy. Like he was actually apart of something, and they actually, genuinely wanted him there. They weren't keeping him around just because no one had the heart to tell him he was unwanted, they genuinely wanted him there and wanted his opinion. Hell, they'd wanted him to come back the next day. And if he had to give up some studying time, and some sleep, to feel wanted, then fuck it, he would.

"Well, shit happens." Thomas chuckled softly, standing as the three burst in, arguing over something or other.

"Newt! You actually came back." Minho grinned toward his friend, who just groaned.

"Don't push your luck, you're already giving me a headache." he grumbled, taking up his previous seat.

"Alright alright. Listen Newt, we were talkin' on a group chat about what you said yesterday, and we realised none of us have your number." Brenda took a long sip of coffee, clearly already buzzing.

"You want my number?" 

"Well, if you're cool with that of course." Teresa added, sipping her tea. 

"Yeah yeah, I am. Hang on I'll write it down." he ripped out a page of his notebook, before tearing it into in four strips. Then he scribbled his number down on all of them and passed them around, hands becoming particularly clammy when he passed one strip to Thomas. He smiled softly and pocketed it.

"Alright, we got less than two weeks to get ourselves perfect." Teresa took charge, plugging in the asians guitar for him.

"Why are you guys doing this anyway? You said it's for a competition the school will enter you guys in, but surely you can just enter the competition as a band, without being linked to a school. Right?" Newt crossed his arms over his chest, Brenda sighing.

"We would, but no band has ever won, that's not connected to a school. Everyone knows the judges are bias, they always let the school bands win. We stand no chance otherwise, I mean, twenty-five years and no non school band's ever won." she waved her hands around dramatically.

"Well that's shit." Newt frowned flatly.

"No point broodin' over it, lets just get this show on the road shall we?" Minho grinned, throwing the strap over his shoulder. The four burst into the same tune as the day prior, but Newt's mind began to wander to the bass. Thomas had taken his advice and added more in, but the bass drum could only hit one note. It felt empty without a bass, as it was essentially one of he main components of every band, and beefed out songs. The blond found himself subconsciously plucking at strings with his fingers that were hung at his sides. With the other hand he tried to figure out chords, whilst trying to articulate a beat. 

Eventually he got frustrated with himself, and his shit memory, and so he grabbed his notebook, beginning to scribble down a bass line hasilty as the four finished the song.

"What are you doing?" Teresa frowned, as he slammed the book down on the Medium Tom drum and pointed to it. The three crowded around, Thomas leaning forward, only to stare at Newt with his jaw set again.

"It's a bass line. Whoever your bassist ends up being, get 'em playin' that for starters. It's easy enough and you can mix it up a little once they've got the hang of it." He shrugged, shoving his hands into his pockets. Minho picked up the book and frowned at it for a moment.

"Newt, this is fast. And there's a lot going on. This isn't 'easy enough'"

"Then find a good bass player." 


	5. Five

Newt side stepped after Teresa, plonking himself down in one of the seats in the auditorium. Thomas sat down next to him, glancing around. The room was large, the seating divided into two sections: the first being more toward the stage, where people were scattered about. In the middle, behind the sound desk, was Mr. Janson, one of the more stern music teachers. Next to him sat the principal, Ms Paige. Behind that was the second block of seats, filled almost to the brim with people, who had come to watch the auditions. Most had scrambled their way in when they found out that Thomas was auditioning, but some were cheering for their friends, whom Newt could only assume were auditioning. 

Newt wasn't auditioning of course, but had managed to sneak his way in with his new friends by holding some of their stuff, namely just two drumsticks and a pick. He watched as one kid made their way to the stage: the first to audition for the singing.

"That's Alby." Thomas murmured into the blond's ear. "Nice kid, met him a few times. He does rugby. He's got a voice on him, but it's no where near as good as Brenda's." Newt watched the boy clear his throat and begin to sing. He had a low gravelly voice, which was powerful and could certainly add something to a band, but, he didn't have much of a range on him. It was fairly similar all the way through, never changing key or adding anything out of the ordinary. He stuck to the script.

A few more kids came and went after Alby, all no good in Newt's opinion. One was too nervous, one was too off key, and one looked like they didn't even want to be there. Then came Brenda.

She swaggered up to the stage and took the microphone in one hand, already looking like a complete natural. Newt had never heard her sing with a microphone before, but _good god_. The girl's unique voice echoed across the spell struck room, making the hairs on the back of the blonds neck stand up whenever she growled or hit a high note. She had the entire audience wrapped around her finger as she swayed around the stage, moulding them all into a crowd of supporters with every honey smooth note she hit next. By the end of it, everyone was on their feet, cheering loudly and applauding.

"THATS OUR BREN'" Teresa cheered, giving her friend a thumbs up and a huge grin. Brenda trotted off the stage, looking really pleased with herself.

"How did I do?' She asked, gasping quietly to get her breath back.

"You were amazing Brenda. Jesus." Newt grinned, Thomas nodding enthusiastically in encouragement and agreement from behind him. 

Then came the keyboardists. The first was too slow, the second to shaky. The third, who's name Newt found out was Ben, played with confidence and flare, moving his fingers across the keys like he had been born to do it. But, he had nothing on Teresa.

She became one with the keys, letting the rhythm guide her and her fingers, not once hesitating or even looking at the keys in front of her. She glided her hands around, creating a fluid, quick sound that only she could. It was electronic, unique, and everything Newt knew she could do. She pushed herself, adding in trills and flourishes when she could, and then a chromatic scale, which had her fingers moving so fast Newt was pretty sure they became blurred. The crowd cheered and encouraged her, all four friends giving her shouts of praise when she finished with a flourish.

There was no way the girls wouldn't get in. They were next level, if Janson and Paige couldn't see that, they must be blind.

Next up was guitars. 

"Minho." The thin-lipped man called. Minho stood up, taking his pick from Newt before chuckling.

"Oh go on babes, for good luck." he handed it back to his blond friend, who groaned and kissed it with a grimace. "I'll be thinking' of ya." he winked and slipped the pick back into his pocket, before barrelling up the stairs onto stage.

"He disgusts me." Newt murmured. Teresa scoffed and nodded, watching as Minho rolled his shoulder back and adjusted the instrument across his body. He cracked his knuckles and put his fingers on the strings, taking control of the crowd. He played with such speed and fluidity, never once slipping up as he plucked and strummed. Newt had seen a lot of people shred, but he'd _never_ seen anyone shred like Minho could. He let the entire song take over his movements, never once loosing his way as his fingers worked effortlessly. By the end, everyone was cheering and there was a rather large crowd of girls screeching at the back of the room, but Minho only founds Newt's eye, and kissed his pick with a wink. The blond groaned and flipped him off as his friend cheekily bounced off the stage.

More guitarists came and went, but after Minho's performance, none compared. The only person who came close was a boy everyone called Frypan, who could _shred_. If Minho hadn't have been there, Newt was sure everyone would be on their feet for him, but alas.

Drummers came next, the second boy, after an awful audition, was a boy that had Thomas's knuckles turning white. When Newt blinked quizzically, Teresa leant toward him.

"That's Gally. He and Tom have been worst enemies since middle school. Kid took up drums, just to stick it to Tom. He want's nothing more than to be better than him. He really knows how to grind Tom's gears." she murmured quietly, watching as Gally slammed out a really good beat. He looked so confident and natural behind a drum set, hands and feet moving as if he didn't even have to think about it.

"Sounds like a prick." Newt mumbled, more to himself as the boy smirked smugly and strutted off the stage. Thomas went after, all four giving him a nod and a grin as he made his way up to behind the set.

"If his hatred for Gally doesn't fuel some good-ass playing here, I'll kill 'im." Brenda scoffed under her breath. Thomas gripped the drumsticks and set his jaw, before sending the audience into awe. Newt could practically feel the girls at the back melting as he played, slamming the sticks down with fluidity and passion. He'd be lying if he said Thomas didn't look like his second home was behind a drum set. The boy kept his eyes on his friends the whole time, although Newt could tell he was thinking about Gally, as half way through his hands went white with fury and he hit with just that bit more spark. By the time he was done, Newt's ears were nearly shot with the sound of the cheers (and screams).

Thomas pulled himself back down next to Newt as another drummer stood up.

"You did really good." he whispered.

"That's sweet of you." Thomas whispered back.

Next came bass. The first boy that stood up, who's name was Winston, was fine. He got through the song and played almost all of it right, but he didn't look natural. He looked awkward, like a jigsaw that wasn't perfect, with one jagged piece that didn't fit. When he finished and no other bass players stood up, everyone turned toward Janson, all silently praying that he had some answer to the lack of bass players, because no one wanted it to be Winston. And by the look of slight pain on his face, neither did he.

"Are there any more bass players?" He asked. No one said anything. "Are there any more bass players?" He repeated.

"Newt plays bass." Thomas piped up. Newt whipped around to look at him, face of bewilderment turning to annoyance at his accuracy and the fact he told someone.

"Hang on what?" Teresa asked.

"Wha?" Brenda scrunched up her nose in confusion.

"Huh?" Minho blinked.

"Well..well I mean..sometimes..I..I don't think I'm good enough to be in a band though..it's just a hobby." Newt tried to reason, stuttering and stumbling over his words.

"Oh nonsense." Ms Paige waved him off.

"I don't have anything prepared." He cried exasperatedly.

"Well, then play us something you know. What do you know?" Janson pushed.

"Uh..well..I know..uh.." he stuttered, completely unprepared, "I know the bassline in Strobe." he offered with a shrug. Janson burst into light laughter, everyone glancing at him in confusion. He humoured himself for about a minute, before smiling sympathetically at the blond.

"Son. Everyone knows that bassline is impossible." Newt frowned for a moment, suddenly fuelled by nothing but the want to prove the man wrong. He didn't care wether he got in. He didn't care if Winston got it. He was going to play that bassline, and he was going to prove that it was possible. Pushing himself off of his chair, he took the bass guitar from Winston and adjusted the strap. Then he marched up onto stage and glared down the teacher.

The whole auditorium was in silence, watching and holding their breath. So, Newt decided to put on a show. Without looking at the instrument once, and keeping his eye on Janson at all times, he started to play. The song was fast paced, and technical. His fingers moved with the instrument, taking him where he needed to go using muscle memory only. He felt the frets, counting them sharply so as to not take his eyes off the teacher. The world seemed to slip away, and the blond found himself with only him, and an instrument that he knew how to mould. It made the sounds he wanted it to make, and he could use it how he wanted, portray any emotion. It wasn't his bass, but it was _a_ bass, and that meant that he was in his element. No one could tell him what was possible, because he and the bass would prove them wrong.

His arms dropped to his sides, and for the first time he scanned the room to watch everyone. Minho looked the most excited Newt had ever seen him, practically bouncing up and down with glee. Teresa looked bewildered, staring at Newt's fingers like he was some sort of alien. Brenda looked like an excited puppy, large grin plastered on her face. Then he found Thomas's face. Thomas looked impressed to say the least. He had a small smile of admiration, and glee that someone had actually stuck it to Janson.

Newt pressed his hand flat against the strings, cutting of any reverb the bass had from the last note. When he found Janson's eyes again, cold with anger and humiliation, he stared him down as the world around them erupted into cheers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact! Strobe is actually a song, with a bassline that is supposed to be impossible. But, if you want to hear it played, and hear what Newt supposedly played, because it is one HELL OF A BASSLINE, look up "DEADMAU5 said this Baseline is IMPOSSIBLE.." on youtube, cuz the guys a genius.  
> Thanks for your support! <3


	6. Six

"Newt come on, you can't be mad at me." Thomas pleaded, jogging to keep up with the blond who was storming through the halls.

"Watch me." the blond snapped back.

"I never told you that you had to audition. I just told them you played bass."  he tried to reason, weaving in and out of the remaining students. "It was Janson that made you go up there." Newt stopped suddenly, and wheeled around, the drummer almost crashing into him. he skidded to a halt, and Newt sighed at the floor, shoulders dropping in defeat. Thomas opened his mouth to further his argument, before realising that Newt was actually upset and eyeing him warily. "Newt? Whats wrong?"

"I made a promise to myself. I told myself I was going to get good grades in my exams and leave here, go somewhere where I could make something of myself. I really wanted to be selfish this year." he mumbled. The brunette looked confused for a moment so he looked around. Thomas gently reached out and took his arm, leading him into the nearest classroom, he closed the door with a soft click and ran his hand down Newt's bicep reassuringly.

"Talk to me Newt. What do you mean?" He asked softly. Newt sighed again and met Thomas's eye. He searched for any sign of personal gain, manipulation, anything. But he only found sincerity.

"I've always focused on other people. When my mum died, I helped my dad with his alcohol issue, and had to take a year out of school, to look after him. Then my sister, she went through a really dark time, with some bad people in her life. My dad wasn't there, so I had to be. She couldn't afford therapy, so I had to work when I was supposed to be at school so we could pay for it. This year, we moved back and it felt like a fresh start. I wanted to get good grades and finally feel like I could become something I was proud of." he avoided eye contact, confusing himself.

Why was he opening up to this boy? He had known him for two weeks, and had no idea wether he was actually the good person everyone portrayed him to be. Although Newt wanted to be wary, wanted to close himself off from Thomas just like he closed everyone else off, he couldn't find the strength to do it.

Newt wasn't very good at reading people. He often found something behind peoples eyes, or in their smile, that he couldn't identify. And it freaked him out. He wasn't one for opening up to someone, unless he could read them, all of them. Everything in their eyes, everything in their smile. And he could read Thomas, like an open book. His eyes were full of nothing but joy at the world, and genuine care for other people. To Newt, he realised, it wasn't about how long he'd known Thomas. It was about the way Thomas looked at him.

"I didn't want friends, because I knew I couldn't rely on anyone but myself. I never wanted Minho to introduce me to you guys. I mean, don't get me wrong, you're all great, but I didn't want that. I didn't want to come to practice, I wanted to study. And I certainly didn't want to bloody audition! I didn't even want anyone to know that I played an instrument. All I wanted was to be able to lie low. And I get it, thats not something you get. You're all popular, and its all about how people view you and how many people stop in the corridors to stare at you. But I didn't want that. And now, everyones going to know me. They're all going to stare at me, and I'm seriously not ok with that." He felt tears of frustration pricking at his eyes, but he convinced himself not to cry in front of Thomas.

"Hey," the brunette murmured softly, "Newt come on. Look at me." the bassist glanced up, praying that Thomas couldn't notice who glassy they were. "Listen," he sighed. "I'm sorry. I suppose I, we all should, have thought about what you wanted. Not everyones wants are the same, and we couldn't see that. We pushed you too hard, and I'm sorry." Newt looked down again, squeezing his eyes shut in a desperate attempt to stop the tears. When he couldn't and he sniffled, Thomas's arms circled around his back and he pulled him flat against his chest. 

"It's so hard." Newt cried. "It's so hard to be selfish. I just want to help, I always only wanted to help. But it escalated, and now my education is ruined because of it." the blond cried quietly, voice muffled as he buried his face into Thomas's jacket. 

"Is everything ok at home now?" Thomas asked soothingly, running his hands up and down the blonds spine. Newt nodded quietly.

"Sonya's happy. My dad's ok now, but he's not the same. He's incompetent. I have to do the cooking and the shopping and all the chores. Sonya's at that stage where she was to go out with her friends at night, and she should be allowed to do that. She shouldn't have to stay at home and help me with house chores, but at the same time, to leaves me with so much work. When I do all that, go to practice and then have to do two hours studying.." his voice came strained before he burst into muffled sobs, "theres no way I'm going to pass!"

"Alright, hey its alright, come on now, deep breaths Newt, in and out." Thomas coaxed gently, running a hand from the base of his neck all the way down to the small of his back, then up again. "I know what you need."

"W-what?"

"A safe space. Where you can get away from it all."

"B-b-but that-s what practice is." he stuttered, trying his hardest not to get snot on Thomas's jacket.

"No, I mean a place you can study. In peace." 

"W-where?" the blond glanced up, met with a frown as the drummer laced his fingers into Newt's hair and ran them through it slowly. It was a simple motion, but one that had Newt immediately relaxing into the touch and putting his head back on Thomas's shoulder, practically turning to putty in his hands. Thomas must have noticed, as he let out a quiet chuckle to himself before repeating the motion, watching in satisfaction and glee as the blond closed his eyes and purred appraisingly, tears beginning to dry.

"Well, every other weekend the others come to my house and we study together. Like, actually study, not the popular people 'study'. You're more than welcome to come, you won't have to worry about anything, just for a morning." Newt opened his eyes again, frowning in displeasure.

"I'd love too..but.."

"Listen, I know that you didn't want friends, and you didn't want this. But, now you're kind of stuck with us. So, you may as well make something out of it, right?" He asked, shrugging lightly. Newt sighed softly and chewed on his lip.

"Fine. I'll come next time and see how I fair." he smiled softly at his friend, who drew away, much to his disappointment.

"Adda boy!"  he grinned, ruffling the blonds hair, which only earned an eye roll and a subtle shoulder unclench.

"Thanks Tommy. For this. Even if its your fault I'm in this situation in the fist place, you've really helped me out. More than you know."

"'Course. We'll see Janson tomorrow and tell him to take your name of the list. You can come to practices whenever _you_ want. Maybe you can help Winston out."

"That sounds good to me."

-

The four stumbled over each other in a rush to get to the noticeboard, Newt hanging back with a laugh as he watched them kick and punch their way past them. Other people that Newt recognised from the auctions began to appear around the noticeboard, murmuring in low tones. Newt stayed on the outskirts of the crowd, waiting for his friends to return from war. A huge boy drew up next to him, glancing down at the bassist.

"So you must be Newt." he offered a hand, which the blond hesitantly took. If Thomas didn't like this guy, neither did he. "I'm Gally." he offered.

"You were good on the drums yesterday." Newt gave him a small smile.

"Thanks. I've never seen anyone play bass like you did. I mean, holy shit, those fingers were good." he scoffed softly.

"Well, I try." the blond laughed softly, praying for the conversation to end.

"Wonder what else those fingers can do." the boy murmured. Newt blinked in pure shock at the larger boy, opening and closing his mouth in a fruitless attempt to say something. Thats when he saw Thomas tugging himself apart from the crowd, before crashing into him. Newt lost his footing, almost going down onto his bad foot with a yelp, before the drummer grabbed his forearm and hauled him upright. Once the bassist was stable, his friend turned to Gally.

"Gally." he said coldly.

"Thomas."

"Nice playing yesterday." the brunette offered.

"You too." Gally nodded curtly. "This cutie yours?" He glanced toward Thomas's steel grip on Newt's arm. He looked almost as taken aback as Newt felt.

"You know I'm not a possession right?" He snapped back. Brenda tumbled out of the crowd, followed hotly by Minho and Teresa, all livid.

"Newt guess what?!" She practically yelled at the blond, who just blinked in confusion. "They didn't put you on the fucking list!"


	7. Seven

"We have to talk to Janson about this!" Teresa glowered at nothing in particular. Newt opened his mouth to oppose, to tell them it was fine, that he didn't want it anyway, the Minho spoke up.

"Yeah! The only reason he didn't get it is because Janson's a sour prick who's bitter about Newt proving him wrong." he turned on his heel, motioning to the others to follow him.

"I'd agree with that one. You were great Newt." Gally offered next to him.

"No guys I-"

"This is a complete injustice!" Brenda clenched her fists at her sides, and Newt became slightly concerned that she was going to use physical force on the music teacher.

"Come on." Minho beckoned after him, the two girls hot on his tail as they strode toward Janson's office in a rage. Newt glanced at Thomas pleadingly, the brunette only frowning and following, pulling the blond along away from Gally and toward yet another issue.

"Guys can we just talk about this before we-" Newt tried again, his words getting lost as they snaked their way through the busy corridors, Minho pulling up short next to the office door. "Minho, could you listen to me for one bloody minute!" He glowered at his friend.

"Yeah yeah sure mate, after this." the asian waved him off, knocking on the door. Newt sighed and held back, slinking to the back of the group. He could feel Thomas's eyes on him, and, well, if he hadn't have realised how bad the 'not listening to what Newt wanted' and 'focusing on their personal gain' was before, he certainly did now. 

Newt knew they meant well. They were angry, for him, because he hadn't got the part they thought he deserved. But the bassist couldn't ignore the undertone the everyone had been ignoring. He was good at what he did, they all knew that. They all also knew, especially Minho, that someone like that could really further their success. But that wasn't what Newt wanted. Not that anyone seemed to care, or have the time to even listen to his opinion.

Janson opened the door with an eyebrow raise.

"Sir, can we ask you about something?" Minho gritted out. The man pursed his lips, and sauntered back to his desk, granting the group entry. They all crowded in, the blond practically hiding behind them all, praying that something would swallow him up. He kept his eyes on the ground, shrinking in on himself in embarrassment and self-doubt, the feeling of Thomas's eyes burning into him.

"What can I help you with?" The man asked curtly, and suddenly the bassist could feel not one, but two pairs of eyes on him.

"We want to know why you didn't put Newt's name on the list. Everyone in that place could see he was miles better than Winston!" Brenda waved her arms around, Teresa adding calmly.

"Honestly sir, if you're doing this just because Newt proved you wrong, I find that very immature of you."

"Thank you Miss Agnes, but Newt's just not what we're looking for." he shrugged.

"What do you mean?!" Minho crossed his arms over his chest defiantly.

"I mean, he's too..fast. Winston is better suited for the job." The man retorted. Even if Newt didn't want the place, it didn't make his words hurt any less. He wasn't that bad was he? He was alright, he knew that much. He'd always been fairly proud of himself when it came to bass, and a small part of his subconscious wondered if Janson was actually allowed to say that kind of thing.

"Well, then we're not doing it." Minho glowered down at the man. 

"What?'

"Huh?"

"Minho!"

"Wait.."

"Yeah you heard right." The boy continued saltily. "You put Newt on the band, or the rest of us won't do it. We'll make our own band, and we'll win the competition. Without the obvious boost all the schools get." He snapped. 

"Yeah!" Teresa nodded.

"Hell yeah." Brenda glowered. Newt's head was spinning. Minho, they were all putting their futures on the line for a boy they'd known two weeks, a boy who didn't even want to be in the band!

"Guys wait, seriously, this is cra-" Newt tried again frustratedly.

"Get out of my office." Janson cut him off, standing and throwing a finger toward the door. 

"Take your fucking school band," Minho growled, stepping closer to the man, "and shove it up your asshole." and with that he sauntered from the office. Teresa shot the man a smile and followed, Brenda flipping him off and stepping after them. Thomas, who was still holding onto Newt's arm, wandered from the room, both dazed and in shock. When the door closed, Thomas exploded.

"WHAT WAS THAT?!" He threw the blonds arm down with a little too much force.

"What do you mean?" Minho whipped around, defence already burning at his eyes.

"We're a team." Thomas's voice dropped dangerously low as he stepped into his friends personal space. "You consult, _all_ of us, before we make a decision. We just threw away the biggest opportunity we've ever had!"

"So what, you're saying Newt's not worth it?!" Minho snapped back, gesturing toward the blond.

"Newt doesn't want to be in the band!" Thomas yelled exasperatedly, almost shaking Minho by the shoulders. The asian looked taken aback for a moment, blinking in surprise.

"Wha..wait what?"

"What do you mean Tom?" Teresa asked with a frown, arms crossed over her chest. Brenda was already crossing the space between them, backing Newt to the wall with questions. 

"What does he mean Newt?! You want to be in the band right?! We didn't just throw that away for nothing, _right?!"_ She hissed.

"I never wanted to be in the bloody band!" Newt snapped finally. The three glanced at him in shock, dumbfounded. Then Brenda snapped.

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN?! WHY DIDN'T YOU SAY ANYTHING!?" She shouted, actually taking the blond by the shoulders and shaking him.

"I TRIED BUT NONE OF YOU EVER BLOODY LISTEN!" Newt yelled back, patience with all the twists and the turns having run out. The girl kept shaking him, before Thomas pulled her back by the bicep, glowering at her.

"He has been trying to tell us from day one. If he wanted to be in the band, he would have told us he was a fucking bassist, ok? All of us, and I mean all of us," he pointed at each individually, "were all so wrapped up in what we wanted, that we never once stopped to think about what Newt wanted. He's an amazing player, and someone we could really use, but that's not what he wants to do. We shouldn't have pressured him into coming to practice. We shouldn't have pressured him to audition, and we should have talked to one another before running off and doing something as dumb as that." They were all tired and frustrated, Newt curling up on himself against the wall. "But it's over. We're going to win this competition, without being linked to a school, and without a bassist." 

The three looked resigned for a moment, before glancing up and nodding curtly at Thomas. Brenda opened her mouth and threw a soft glance at the blond, but he just shook his head and smiled softly in forgiveness. She nodded and glanced down.

"Alright fine. Let's regroup. Meet in the practice room in half an hour. Good that?" The girl asked. 

"Good that." the three chorused, peeling away. Thomas turned toward the cafeteria, Newt taking his hand.

"Wait." he mumbled. Thomas turned around, blinking. "If..if the offer still stands..I..I could be your bassist. If you wanted."

"Oh no Newt, I wouldn't want you to do it just because you felt bad. You've already got so much going on, I don't want to add on any unnecessary pressure."

"No, no. I want too."

"Are you sure?" The brunette growing uncertainly.

"Yeah. Lets win this competition."


	8. Eight

He knocked politely on the door, sighing slightly.

"Come in." the girl called. Newt pushed open his door, met with his younger sister sat on the floor, her revision spread out before her. She took her headphones off and lay them around her neck, smiling up at her brother. "You good?"

"Oh, sorry. I didn't mean to disturb you." He frowned, making a move to close the door again.

"Nah don't sweat it, I needed a break anyway. What's up?" She asked. The boy chewed on his nails and closed the door, slumping down at her desk with a sigh. "Damn Newtie, somethings really got to you. What's got you so slumpy grumpy?" She grinned, drawing her knees up to her chest.

"I think I have a crush." he mumbled.

"Newt you always say that." She retorted.

"I know, but I think it's serious this time. I thought it was just another one of my 'crushes', but he's more than just attractive." he murmured. "I mean, I've known him for about a month, my dumb 'crushes' have usually gone away by now, but this one hasn't."

"Ok, well, tell me about him." The girl offered.

"Well, he's really sweet and smart. He's really sharp, and he plays drums and he actually cares about how I feel. And, I had one of my..moments, about a week ago, and he didn't tease me about it. And I hate it when people stare at me, but when he looks at me I feel..reassured I suppose. And, he's always made me feel welcome, and a part of the group, and he's always making me feel..ok." he itched his jaw and avoided eye contact.

"God, you really do have it bad this time huh?" His sister scoffed lightly.

"Yeah." he grumbled, repeating his sisters motion of drawing his knees up to his chest and burying his face in them.

"So what's the problem? Why can't you ask him out?" She asked.

"He's popular. You know Minho kinda got involved in that crowd, and somehow dragged me into that. Thing is, you know how party with popular people are, and I'm kinda worried. I don't wanna drink or smoke any weed, and, well he'll probably have a girl on each arm."

"So, you're worried you're getting involved with the wrong people? You think he's dodgy?" Sonya frowned from her knees.

"No! Not at all, I think they're great, they're all really sweet, and they don't skip class or anything like that. I just...I don't know if it's a stigma, but popular people never really seem to care, or have any regard for anyone else feelings. I'm just worried he'll break my heart and not even realise I had feelings for him in the fist place."

"Well, why don't you talk to him?"

"Because almost all the girls in the school have a crush on him. Not like I'm any different, he'll just add me to the back of the list." Newt shrugged.

"Hm, well, I'd talk to him." she shrugged. "Can I meet him?" She grinned eagerly as Newt stood up and ruffled her hair.

"We'll see Kiddo. Get on with your revision." he headed to the door. "What do you want for dinner?"

"Can we get takeaway?"

"No, not yet. We'll get some at the weekend, that good?"

"Ugh fine." she glowered at her older brother, before sticking her tongue out and putting her headphones back on. "Come get me if you need any help."

"Will do." he smiled and closed the door softly, living the girl in peace. Sometimes he felt more like Sonya's mother than her brother.

-

Newt chewed on the end of his pencil, sighing slightly.

"Alright I'm takin' a break." Teresa announced, standing from where she was sprawled out on Thomas's floor. Brenda nodded and rolled her shoulders back.

"I'll second that."

"Yep, me too." Minho nodded. "Thomas, you got any ramen? I'm cravin' it." 

"Random." Teresa gave him a look.

"Let me live woman, I'm a sucker for some noodles." The boy grumbled, among Brenda scoff.

"Yeah, I got some. Get five bowls yeah? Newt and I'll be down in a second." Thomas waved them off, finishing scribbling something down and standing. The three exchanged a glance.

"Mmk." Brenda grinned knowingly, ushering her two friends from the room. Thomas crossed the room and crouched down next to the blond, who finally glanced up from his revision.

"Newt, mate, you haven't even taken a toilet break, and we've been at this for three hours." He put a hand on the slender shoulder. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah. I'm fine." the bassist sighed softly, stretching out his bad leg. "I just haven't had the opportunity to revise like this for years. I really needed it."

"Well, I'm glad it's of use. But you have to remember to actually function, yeah?" The drummer chuckled softly, standing up.

"Yeah, right bodily functions, got it." The blond muttered. Now he was in a  predicament. His leg was cramping up, and he knew there was no way he'd be able to stand on it, not until it sorted itself out. But he didn't want Thomas to know that, he knew the drummer would judge him and get impatient with him.

"Leg causing you some shit?" The brunette guessed. Newt didn't make eye contact, nodding at the floor. His friend sat down again. 

"Oh no, Tommy, go find the others. This'll take a while."

"Well, I'm in no rush." he shrugged. Newt wondered how everything that came out of Thomas's voice was so cool and causal. Newt would kill to have even an ounce of whatever he was taking, because he just wanted to know how someone could be so understanding and spontaneous, whilst still managing to sound like a badass reply.

"Thanks." was all the blond could mutter. Newt was the exact opposite to Thomas, having nothing cool about him. He was clumsy, jumpy, lanky and anxious, and practically always confused. His voice seemed to never raise above a murmur, and catching him actually making eye contact was like catching a rare Pokemon, which was exactly the kind of reference his nerdy ass would make quietly to himself.

"So, the leg. That, something you don't like talking about or.." Thomas trailed off.

"I mean, it's nothing, no big secret that no one can know about."

"Aw, thought you might be like a secret agent or somethin'." Thomas chuckled, making Newt scoff.

"Nah. It was when I was fifteen. Dodgy people Sonya got involved with, we were all on a roof on a building, there was a dodgy deal I was trying to get her out of. One of them shoved Sonya, and she tripped, almost fell off. So I caught her, tried to pull her back up. Managed to do it, but then these bellends started trying to push her off again, and, well, you touch my sister I'll break your hand. I broke a lot of bones that day, but I paid the price. Shoved me off the building instead. Broke my leg in three different places, but Sonya was safe, that's what mattered. Guys went to prison, and I got better."

"Holy fuck. I mean that's terrible, but would you hate me if I said I have a lot of respect for you now. Like, that sounds _badass._ How did you break their bones?" He asked, interest and wonder sparkling at his dark eyes. Newt found himself blushing, dumbfounded by the fact that someone like _Thomas_ was finding _him_ interesting.

"Well," he cleared his throat, "I got hold of a crowbar. Bent this guys hand backward, broke his arm. Slammed this other guys head into a vent. I mean, when you're up against an angry brother using a crowbar as a baseball bat, it's not that great." he shrugged. "It wasn't like some dumb action film though. It was really scary actually." he admitted.

"Yeah, sounds it."

"But, I wouldn't change how it panned out, even if my leg is fucked for the rest of my life."

"Why not?"

"Well, it got rid out of the people terrorising my sister, and now they're rotting in prison, like they should be."

"God, you really love her don't you?" Thomas smiled softly.

"Yeah. Do you not have any siblings?"

"I have a half bother. His name is Chuck. We get on fine, but my mom and his dad have only been together about two years, so I don't really know him two well. Sweet kid though, but I'm pretty sure he thinks I'm a celebrity." he scoffed.

"Well, nothin' wrong with a personal cheerleader."

"That's true." he shrugged. Minho threw the door open, glowering at the two.

"Jesus, you two are either deaf or so busy having sex with your eyes to hear me. I've been calling you for the past two minutes, your ramen's getting cold." he rolled his eyes.

"Alright alright fine. We're coming." Thomas flipped his friend off and stood, offering the bassist a hand which eh took gratefully. "You gonna be ok?"

"I feel fine now." Newt smiled softly, beginning to hobble toward the door.

"He just got shoved off a building, he's not a war hero." Minho scoffed, punching Newt's arm lightly as he passed.

"Well I'm sure he's Sonya's hero." Thomas retorted. Newt began to burst with pride, and he'd suddenly never felt more accepting of his injury. He was Sonya's brother. And he was a fucking good one at that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoops I love this chapter, siblings that love each other are my aesthetic wow. Shoutout to my brother, he's a huge prick but makes me laugh and I love him. Would I hit some dude over the head with a crow bar for him tho? Yes. Yes I would. Cuz it'd make a cool story.


	9. Nine

"There's a party tomorrow night, you guys wanna go?" Brenda asked, Minho tuning his guitar and subconsciously humming from the corner.

"Last time we went to a party Min' swallowed a ping pong ball and then almost contracted about three STI's." Thomas frowned, just receiving an eye roll from the asian like none of that was life-threatening.

"Tom, you got trapped in a hot tub with Winston's family dog." Teresa countered.

"Well at least he didn't wake up on the roof of the police station." Brenda murmured, earning a smack on the arm from the other girl.

"Bren', you can't talk. Do we need to remind you of the time you called us when we were all hungover because you thought you'd ended up in Mexico." Minho smirked. Newt blinked at his friends. If he didn't want to go to a party before, he certainly didn't now. Newt didn't dare drink, fear of what his father had become driving him away from it, multiplied by the motherly responsibility he had over both Sonya and his father.

"I think we should go." Brenda laughed, shrugging carelessly.

"Sure, why not." Thomas nodded. Ah. So this is why they were popular. They didn't skip class, they didn't get bad grades, but they threw parties, went to parties, got unbelievably drunk and were made popular because of it. If Newt knew one thing about high school, it was that often the party animals were the popular ones.

"You coming Newt?" Minho asked. Newt shook his head.

"No..I don't drink."

"Who said you had to drink?" Teresa asked.

"No one, it's just that..if I'm the sober one I'll end up being in charge of you all the entire night. Not exactly my idea of fun." he murmured.

"Then loosen up a bit, have a beer mate. What's the harm?" Brenda shrugged, frowning from where she was sat at the drum set. Newt glanced at his lap.

"Not the best connotations when it comes to alcohol." he murmured. Minho put a firm hand on his shoulder.

"Don't sweat it mate. You don't have to do anything you don't wanna."

-

Still, somehow, the next night Newt ended up sat in the corner of a random guys house, petting their cat with a soda in hand. He sighed, and watched his friends from across the room. Minho had disappeared with some girl about half an hour prior, Brenda was playing beer pong with five boys who all seemed to want to have sex with her, Teresa was sobbing to some random girl she'd met five minutes before about how sharks are misrepresented, and Thomas, as predicted, was sat in the corner with a girl practically on each knee. 

Newt checked his phone again: no messages from Sonya. He was worried about how she would be fairing at home without him, since he hadn't gone out for a night..well, ever. He took deep breath and reminded himself that she was fifteen. She would be fine.

Brenda slumped down next to him, grinning from ear to ear.

"Heyyyyyy Newtieeee." she grinned, slumping on top of him.

"Hello Brenda." He sighed.

"Whoo you textinnnn? Is itt your boyfrriiiennnnddd?" She slurred together.

"No, I don't have a boyfriend." 

"YAYYY! Thats gooooooood." she squealed.

"Is it? Why?"

"Becaussseeee now he can get with youuuuuu." she shrugged.

"Who?" Newt frowned. What was she on about? Did someone want to get with him? Did someone have a crush on him? Oh god, that wasn't something he wanted. Love was complicated, love was distracting.

"Its-" Gally sat himself down next to Newt, passing him a sly smile. "Hey Newt, hey Bren'." 

"Hey Gallllly." she slurred, standing up and carrying herself away to the table for more drinks. Great. Just great. Now he was alone with Gally, possibly the creepiest person he'd met since being at the school. He sighed and kept his eyes on the sleeping cat on his lap. He pet her quickly, trying to calm his nerves and agitation.

"How you doin' Newt?" the boy asked. The only positive was that Gally didn't smell of alcohol, which meant he was either sober, or hadn't drank that much.

"I'm fine. How are you?" He replied calmly, scanning the room for his friends who could possibly get him out of the situation. But they all seemed fairly preoccupied.

"I'm great." Gally replied, smiling softly. "So I heard the others bailed out of the competition."

"Well, not really. We're still doing it, just not with the school. I don't know who they chose to replace us." 

"Oh you haven't heard? well, they've got Alby singing, me on drums, Fry on guitar, Winston on bass and Ben on keys." he smiled rather smugly. Honestly, Newt couldn't care any less.

"Oh. Congratulations." he forced a smile.

"Thanks. It's a shame you're not with us though, you're way better than Winston." the boy leaned back, draping an arm over the couch behind Newt. He swallowed. Then the cat got up and jumped off of his lap, sauntering into the kitchen. Great. Not even the cat wanted to save him from this torture.

"Thank you." he got out.

"You know, I really don't know why you hang out with those dumbasses." the boy sighed exasperatedly, placing a hand on Newt's knee. "We're all a lot more..refined. You're better off coming with us, we could win with you there."

'I enjoy their company." Newt murmured, wanting this conversation to be over.

"Well, I think you'd enjoy my company a lot more." 

"What are you- mmhhpphh!" Gally suddenly had his wrists in a vice tight grip and his mouth on Newts. The blond tried to wriggle away but it was no use. There was too much teeth, and too much tongue as the boy seemingly tried to colonise Newt's mouth with his.

"OI!" Thomas's voice had Gally groaning and grimacing into Newt's mouth, as he opened his eyes and glanced toward his enemy. "Get off of him." Thomas said calmly, arms crossed over his chest in peaceful protest style. Newt was surprised to realise that Thomas was completely sober, and a bit of him was hurt that the drummer hadn't spent some time with seemingly the only other sober person at the party, who was also his friend, instead of two drunk girls who just wanted some dick.

Gally drew away with a sigh, running a thumb up Newt's wrist before letting go of them too. The bassist knew those red marks would be there for a while, as he sighed and stood up, wandering into the bathroom. 

He locked the door and turned on the tap. Splashing some water on his face and spitting into the drain with a grimace, he ran the cold water over his stinging wrists, before sighing. He was seriously not starting to like this. Things seem to be going wrong way more than they were going right.

"Newt?" Thomas rapped on the door, the blond sighing again, unlocking the door, and sitting in the bath. Thomas opened the door and blinked at Newt, before locking the door and clambering in opposite him. "Hi."

"Hello."

"Are you alright?" He asked, smiling softly.

"Yeah, I'm fine." Newt nodded, rubbing his wrists slightly to get the blood flow back. "Why were you avoiding me?" He asked.

"Avoiding you? I'm not avoiding you." Thomas frowned slightly.

"Yes, yes you are. You're sober, because your pupils haven't dilated. Yet you spent the whole night with two drunk girls, who were clearly annoying you, based on your stance and the way you kept sighing. And I know you knew I was sober, and quite frankly, I'm offended that you'd rather spend the night with two annoying girls who wanted your dick, instead of me and the cat. Am I that bad?" He asked, joking slightly, but also a little hurt.

"No, no Newt that's not it. It's..it's nothing, honest. Nothing against you, I promise. It's me, just some..personal shit is all. I'm sorry. I should have come over when Gally sat down. Sorry."

"No, no it's fine don't sweat it. I don't mind." he smiled softly. "I think I'm gonna go home."

"Want me to drive you? I know you walked here."

"Are you sure? I wouldn't want to be any trouble." The blond mumbled at his lap.

"Oh nonsense. Come on" he stood up and offered him a hand. Newt smiled and took it, stepping out of the bath.

"Jesus he really had a hold on your wrists, huh?"

"Yeah. It's fine though. If it got too bad I'd just smack him over the head with a crowbar." he shrugged. Thomas threw his head back and laughed, Newt smiling softly as he did so. Thomas looked perfect when he laughed, his smile lighting up the room and his dark eyes sparkling with life. Oh god. Sonya was right, he had it bad. Really bad.


	10. Ten

Newt watched the world go by from inside Thomas's Lexus, street lamp after street lamp falling behind them as the drummer cruised along the wet ground.

"This isn't the way to my house." he frowned, glancing at the sat nav. Thomas hadn't been following it for the past ten minutes, and the blond frowned, slightly concerned he was about to be kidnapped.

"I know, but I wanted to treat you. Was scared you'd say no if I asked." he shrugged.

"Tommy, you're already driving me home."

"Yeah, but I still feel guilty. Just let me treat you to a milkshake." he glanced toward the blond, who shot him a pout. "Pleaseee." he added, batting his eyelashes.

"Fine. But I'm paying you back when we get back to mine."

"Oh god, fine." he groaned. Newt grinned to himself in victory, blowing a strand of hair from his face.

-

The waitress brought back a chocolate milkshake with two straws, because Thomas didn't have enough money on him to buy two drinks, sliding it across the table at the booth they were sat in. The cafe was one of those retro diner types, open seemingly 24/7 with a jukebox and red stools at the bar. Newt smiled softly at the waitress as she sauntered away.

"So am I gonna get to meet Sonya when you pay me back for half a milkshake?" Thomas asked, leaning forward and taking a sip from the drink.

"Possibly. If she hasn't burnt down the house." he shrugged, taking a sip himself, before continuing. "You never say anything about yourself." he observed.

"Well, what is there to know?" Thomas shrugged nonchalantly.

"Well, uh..what do you think of your step-dad?"

"Eh. He's alright. Names Vince. We get on well enough, he loves my mom, so he's not too bad." he shrugged. "I just want my mom to be happy." he explained.

"That's sweet."

"Well, what about your dad? Is he still around or.." Thomas took another sip.

"Yeah, yeah he's around." Newt glanced at his lap. "He stays in his room, watches TV, comes out and pretends we're a normal family when we have someone around." he scoffed quietly. "But could be worse. He's getting help, and he's not beating us, so.." he shrugged at the ground.

"Mm." Thomas nodded.

"So who were those girls you had with you tonight?" Newt asked, changing the subject as smoothly as he could.

"Oh they're in my biology class. One of them's called Hannah, and Martha. Sweet girls, dense, but sweet." he shrugged.

"Were you just going to pretend they actually wanted to get to know you the whole night?" Newt asked, coming off a little more sharp tongued than he had intended. Thomas frowned lightly, furrowing his brow.

"What do you mean?"

"Well..I just mean.." he tried, before sighing. "Popularity obviously isn't something I get. I don't smoke, drink, hell I've never even touched a cigarette. All the hook ups and stuff, it just seems..fake." he picked at his nails, Thomas nodding for him to continue. "I mean, those girls didn't want to get to know you. They didn't want to learn about your life, hell, they probably didn't even care how you were feeling that day. I mean, it doesn't cost anything to ask how someones day was, just to show you care, it makes people feel appreciated. But those girls just wanted to hook up with you, and then on Monday they would go to their friends and boast about how they hooked up with ' _Thomas_ '. People use it as a trophy and I don't understand it."

'If I wanted to have sex with someone," he continued, "hell, even if I wanted to kiss someone, I'd have to like them. I'd have to have feelings for them, because otherwise whats the point? To fill a missing space? To feel alive? Why boast about having had sex with the most popular people in the school, when you could spend your time actually trying to find someone who will love and cherish you?"

"You know," Thomas watched Newt with something that the blond couldn't identify. Wait. Newt didn't like that. Where was the Thomas that Newt could read? Where was the open Thomas? What was this new thing Newt couldn't decipher? He swallowed dryly. "We should have more Newt's in the world."

"What? Why?" The bassist blinked.

"I love the way you think. It's so..love based. You think about the people you love first, every decision you make seems to be based around whats best for them. It's sweet. Pure."

"Th..thank you." he kept his eyes on the table, cheeks reddening at the compliment.

"You're sweet. I like you Newt." Thomas leant back to enunciate his declaration. "And you're cute when you get flustered like that." he chuckled softly, the blond groaning and hiding his face in his arms. The drummer laughed, absolutely delighted with his ability to make Newt blush like an idiot.

-

"You're coming, because otherwise I know you'll drive off." Newt took him by the wrist and tugged him out of the car, grabbing his keys from his pocket and opening the front door. He pulled his friend inside and closed the door behind him. "Sorry it's a mess. I haven't had the chance to clean it up yet." he sighed.

"NEWT HAVE YOU BROUGHT SOMEONE HOME?!" Sonya yelled from upstairs.

"Well..yes, but I'm just paying him back for something, he'll be gone in a moment!" He called back, beginning the search for his wallet.

"OH GOOD, THOUGHT I WAS GONNA HAVE TO USE MY EARPLUGS AGAIN." The girl scoffed. Newt spluttered and his his face in the basket he was currently rummaging through.

"Again?" Thomas raised an eyebrow, shoving his hands in his pockets.

"Don't listen to her." Newt grumbled.

"IS IT THAT TOMMY BOY YOU KEEP GOIN' ON ABOUT?" Sonya called.

"I don't go on about him." the blond murmured to himself, pouting at his coat pocket. Then he set his jaw and sighed. "Sonya, give me back my wallet!"

"ONLY IF I CAN MEET HIM."

"Ugh fine. Get your ass down here, you got three seconds before I turn off the wifi for a week." he threatened. The girl immediately barrelled down the stairs, wallet in hand, grinning from ear to ear at their new guest. Sonya had the same soft blond hair, always kept in a loose fishtail plait, with large brown eyes, holding a lot more mischief and confidence than her brothers. She had a scar on her right cheek bone, only visible in the light. 

"Mine." Newt grabbed his wallet back, smacking her knuckles with it and flipping it open. She leant on the banister, staring at Thomas.

"So you're Tommy?" 

"That I am." the brunette smiled softly, clearly running over everything he had been told about the girl in his mind.

"Well I can see why you're popular. You got some muscles on you there mate." she scoffed, elbowing her brother. "Got yourself a hunk Newtie."

"Offer still stands. Don't make me get the hammer out, because so help me god I will use it on the wifi hub." he pulled out a two dollar note, handing it to his friend.

"Help, I'm being held here against my will." she pouted toward Thomas, before grumbling her way up the stairs.

"You're a scary mom." Thomas scoffed.

"Yeah well, I try." he shrugged meekly.

"Guess I'll see you on Monday." he asked, stuffing the note into his pocket. Newt nodded, keeping his gaze low. "Oh, and Newt?"

"Yeah?"

"You should blush more often, it's a good luck on you." he grinned, before sauntering out go the house. As soon as the door clicked shut, Newt's face coloured to that of a tomato, and his sister wolf whistled from the top of the stairs. Jesus. Thomas would be the death of him.


	11. Eleven

"So how long have you been playing the bass?" Teresa asked, taking a sip from her drink. The two were sat in the cafeteria, Brenda, Minho and Thomas having gone on a mission to talk to the girl Minho had hooked up with on Saturday night so see if there was any chance she had any STI's, not wanting a repeat of 'last time'.

"A while. Since I was ten. What about you?" He replied, stabbing a tomato from his salad.

"Since I was twelve." she replied. "Hey." She chewed on her lip as the blond watched her expectantly. "Did Brenda say anything to you the other night?"

"About what? Could you be a little more specific?" He asked, laughing softly and putting the fruit in his mouth.

"Well, I just..what did you talk about?" She tried from a different angle.

"Well.." he frowned, trying to recollect his memory. "She asked me who I was texting, asked me if I had a boyfriend, then said something about how 'he could get with me.' I asked who, but then Gally showed up." he shrugged. She cursed under her breath and shot him a smile.

"Oh, ok."

"Do you know something?" He asked, furrowing his brow. She blinked, trapped like a deer in the headlights. 

"Well..I..uh.." she stuttered. Then Newt felt hands clamp down on his shoulders, and he twisted his neck to see Thomas, smiling down at him. Teresa took a deep breath out as the brunette produced a two dollar note.

"Think you dropped this babes." he winked and put it under the blonds hand. "Buy yourself something nice."

So that was how he wanted to play it. Well, if Newt knew how to play, he'd win.

-

When he walked into the practice room, the four were huddled in a tight corner, murmuring under their breath. They all turned to him, looking like they'd been caught red handed doing something unbelievably bad.

"Did I miss a secret meeting or something?" He asked, dropping his bag to the floor.

"We were just talking." Brenda squeaked. Her three friends shot her a warning glare, and so she ducked under their gaze and busied herself. Newt just blinked.

"You guys are so weird." He sighed, rolling his eyes. They all seemed to relax after it was clear Newt wasn't going to answer questions.

"Alright, we got three weeks until the competition, so we need to be on tip-top condition." Minho told them, grabbing his guitar from it's stand.

"Three weeks to get Newt up to speed." Brenda added, frowning slightly at their tight schedule. Newt took up his own guitar and put it round his shoulders, strumming once to check that it was in tune.

"Part of me thinks we won't have to worry about that." Thomas muttered from where he was testing all of the drums. 

"Well you made a bassline, you think you can do it?" Minho asked, already knowing the answer.

"Sure. Easy enough." Newt shrugged, cracking his knuckles.

"Good that." his best friend nodded at him, cracking into his first note. Newt sighed quietly, beginning to play. Newt never worried when he was playing. If he knew what he was doing, at times like these when muscle memory guided him, he was left to his thoughts. How did he get here? A month ago he was planning on graduating with straight A's and no friends, and yet here he was, part of a band with two girls who he'd really warmed to, his best friend who he hadn't seen in person since he was seven, and an apparent crush he'd seemingly acquired, who was also the most popular boy in their year. Newt glanced around, eyes lading on Teresa.

He liked Teresa. She was clearly the brains of the operation, talent and intelligence practically glowing off of her. She had been almost motherly toward Newt, one hundred percent the mom friend. He liked how much she cared about her friends, constantly checking on them and looking out for them. He liked her.

Brenda was almost the exact opposite, sarcastic and witty, and seemingly having no regard for safety whatsoever. However, she did seem to find a beautiful passion in certain things, like her friends, and singing. Newt liked a passionate person, it was good. Endearing. 

He'd known Minho for almost as long as he could remember, but Newt was seriously enjoying seeing him every day. The asian brought a new energy to Newt's life, putting him on edge almost every day, and the bassist would be lying if he said he wasn't enjoying the period of exhilaration the guitarist and his friends were bringing.

As for Thomas, Newt had never met someone as peculiar as him. He was flirtatious and open and admirable and carefree and analytical and to put it simply, Newt quite looked forward to going back to school the next day, just to see him running a hand through his hand and grinning.

He wasn't sure when it had happened, but Newt had fallen in love with his new friends. And he wasn't sure if he'd be able to drag himself away from them, even if he wanted too.

-

Newt hung back for a moment, letting Thomas saunter in front of him out of the door. One thing the bassist had observed, was that Thomas had a habit of leaving the front pocket of his bag open, which was greatly helpful in Newt's quest to get the two dollar note back to the brunette.

He slid it in quickly and fell into step with Thomas, the two beginning to head toward the parking lot.

"You end up smashin' the wifi box?" He asked.

"Not yet. But she hasn't stolen my wallet again." the blond scoffed back.

"Wise decision."

"Uh huh. She's a smart girl." he scoffed softly.

"You know Newt," he frowned softly. "You think too much when you play." he tapped the blonds temple. "You need to clear that head of yours, get in the zone."

"I was just thinking about how I got to this point in my life." Newt murmured to his shoes.

"Shit happens, but that's beside the point." Thomas waved him off. "You need to let the music take over if you wanna play your best."

"Well, how do you just not think about anything?" They reached Thomas's car first, but Newt's was only a few spaces away. The two had made a habit of parking as close to each other as possible, Thomas always waiting for Newt in his car, until the blond got there in the mornings so that they could chat their way inside. Thomas got there first, the blond having to drop off his sister, and honestly Newt quite enjoyed it.

"Think about things that inspire you. Things you're passionate about. Things you love. That's when you play your best."

Things he loved. Huh.


	12. Twelve

Newt woke up with the moonlight shining down on him. He groaned lightly, glancing around his darkened room. He was lying, face down on his bed, fully clothed with revision and stationary all over his duvet. He glanced up toward the alarm clock, reading 1 AM. He groaned again and reached toward the lamp, dehydration clogging at his throat. Reaching forward and turning on the light, a figure was illuminated about three feet away.

"HOLY-"

"It's just me!" Thomas put his hands out, trying to calm the blond. Newt blinked at him for a minute, then swung his legs over the side of his bed and stood up.

"Why are you in my house? How did you get here?" he hissed, subtly aware that his dad and sister were still sleeping.

"Sonya let me in." he shrugged, keeping his voice low.

"When?"

"Like an hour ago. I thought you might be awake, and I was bored, so I decided to swing by. She said you'd be in your room, so I came up here and you were asleep. I was wondering wether to wake you up or not, but you just did." he murmured. Newt blinked at him.

"You've been in here for an hour?!" He hissed. "Doing what?"

"Well I looked at your guitar. Looked at some of your art, looked at you. I didn't go snooping or anything, honest." he held his hands up in surrender.

"Let me get this straight." Newt sat back down. Thomas plonked down next to him. "At 12 AM, you decided to see if I wanted to hang out, found me asleep in my room, and didn't think to go home or go find someone else to hang out with."

"Well when you say it like that it sounds really creepy." Thomas pouted slightly.

"That's because it is really creepy!" he groaned.

"Oh come on, I'm not that bad. Anyone else would practically sell their soul to find me in their room at 1 AM." Thomas scoffed, following the bassists movements as he stood up.

"Yeah yeah I get it, you're popular and girls like you. Like, don't get me wrong Tommy, you're cute enough, but even I draw a line at in the bedroom in the dead of night." He trotted down the stairs with the drummer in tow, shedding off his jacket.

"Aww, that's a shame." He actually almost sounded disappointment.

"How so?" The blond asked, wandering into the kitchen and grabbing a glass. Thomas jumped up onto the counter next to him.

"Well, the moons out, auras right. Seems like a perfect scene for a bit of romance, wouldn't you say?" He smirked teasingly at his friend, who kept his eye on the glass he was filling up.

"You think every scene is perfect for romance Tommy, you sweep a new girl off of her feet every day." he took a long swig.

"Are you calling me a player?" The brunette frowned, the blond leaning his hip against the counter.

"Yes. That's exactly what I'm calling you. If you hadn't noticed, you're a bit of a ladies man."

"Yeah, well sometimes I wish it was more than just girls." he sighed. Newt frowned for a moment, furrowing his brow in confusion.

"You want to attract the guys?"

"Well not exactly. Kind of, I suppose. I mean don't get me wrong, I love girls. They're soft and sweet and just, girls. But I feel the same way about guys. Never felt any less love toward them than I did to the girls." he shrugged.

"Then why have I only ever seen you with girls?" Newt asked. Oh lord. Thomas liked guys. Still, as well as girls, but he. Liked. Guys.

"Guess none of the guys find me attractive or something." Newt scoffed. "What?"

"Tommy, everyone finds you attractive."

"Why? I just..I don't get it. Why me?" Thomas jumped off the counter, coming face to face with his friend.

"Well," he glanced at Thomas's face. "What's not to love? You're basically the perfect guy. Smart, strong, sweet, kind, muscular. You're an all rounder. You do sports, and music and you're smart. And you're open, never leave anything to the imagination."

"You just sound like you're describing Minho, or literally anyone else though." he fired back.

"Well,it's the little things that make you you. When you get excited your eyes get all sparkly, and when you're a little nervous you tap your thigh. You pout when something doesn't go your way and that smirk does things to a lot of people." he avoided eye contact, only looking up when Thomas stepped forward. The drummer put his arms on the counter either side of the blond, trapping Newt between him and the cool slab of the counter.

"Does it do things to you?" He asked lowly, keeping eye contact with Newt as the blond began to stammer and squirm under his gaze.

"Well..I..it's..uh..well..i.." His face lit up like a firework had gone off. Thomas just chuckled and let his arms slip back to his side, leaning backward and elbowing his friend.

"Nah I'm only kidding ya. Trust you to make me feel better about myself babes."

-

When the blond curled up in bed with a groan an hour later, when Thomas had finally left, he put his head in his hands.

Newt was worried. He'd had crushes before, plenty of them. But they'd all lasted a month, and they'd all been based on looks. But this time it was different. Yes Thomas was fucking gorgeous, but it was his personality that really drew the blond in. He was charismatic and vulnerable at the same time, always there but aways kind of not completely, cool but also very clumsy and dorky at the same time. This crush was longer than the others, and Newt found himself thinking about Thomas a lot more than was probably healthy. 

Why did he get flustered so easily around the brunette? Why did he keep making a fool out of himself? And why couldn't he just answer Thomas's question? 

He rolled onto his side, something crinkling in his pocket. He blinked and pulled out the two dollar bill.

"How did I get this?" He rolled his eyes and turned it over in his fingers. In scrawled handwriting on the back, was his answer.

_Shit happens._


	13. Thirteen

Newt sipped on his soda as his sister put down her sunglasses on the bridge of her nose.

"So how's the band going?" She asked, chucking a chip into her mouth. The two were sat outside there usual cafe, the same place they went every Saturday morning for snacks, and just to catch up, seeing as Newt was always either studying or doing housework, and when he wasn't, Sonya was out.

"It's alright. We're pretty good I think, don't really have anything to worry about the competition."

"It's next week right?" She asked, throwing a chip into her brothers mouth, who caught it and nodded. "Remind me again why you're doing this?"

"They all kind of made me realise that I'm a bit up tight. I study and do chores, and I thought, well they need a bass player and it's not a bad thing to have a hobby. And I felt bad that they backed out of being the school band because of me." he mumbled through his chip.

"Hm." She nodded, glancing at something behind the blond. He was about to turn when hands slammed down on his shoulder.

"BOO!" 

"JESUS CHRIST!" He whipped around, Minho and Thomas high-fiving as the girls cackled and grabbed four chairs. "If you make that a bloody habit I'll die of a heart attack." he glowered at the brunette who shrugged.

"Nice seeing' you too babes. You mind if we sit? We were in town and saw you." 

"Oh no, go ahead." Sonya invited them down, much to Newt's annoyance. He knew all to well that Sonya was scarily aware of his crush, and would probably make a fool of him. Minho and Thomas sat themselves next to Newt, the two girls sitting either side of the blond girl.

"Ok, so." Newt cleared his throat awkwardly. "Sonya, you've already met Minho and Tommy, but this is Teresa and Brenda. Brenda, Teresa, this is my sister Sonya." he explained nervously. The three girls exchanged a small greeting.

"Hang on." Minho piped up. "When did Sonya and Thomas meet?" He raised an eyebrow at Newt.

"I made Tommy come to my house so I could pay him back for something. Sonya was there." The bassist explained truthfully. Then why was he acting so nervous?

"What were you paying for?" He pressed.

"A milkshake." Thomas shrugged.

"You two got milkshakes together?" Teresa blinked. "When did this happen?"

"After Gally kissed Newt at the party. I said I'd drive him home but we took a detour to the diner." The drummer explained casually. Newt was glad he'd taken over the talking, he wasn't sure he would have been able to do it without stumbling and stuttering over his words.

"Hang on, hang on, rewind." Sonya stuck a hand out. "Who's this Gally guy? And why did he kiss Newt?"

"This guy Thomas hates, has a bit of a thing for Newt. He kissed him at this party we went too, but Thomas broke it up and then the two of them disappeared." Brenda shrugged, wiggling her eyebrows at Thomas. "You sure the milkshake is what you were paying him for Newtie?"

"Well," the blond straightened slightly, "if Tommy was giving blowjobs for two dollars I'd be a bit worried, and would probably tell him that he could at least raise it to a fiver." he shrugged casually. Brenda and Minho burst into cackles, Sonya and Teresa exchanging a look of disgust. Thomas elbowed him in the shoulder, nevertheless leaning toward the bassists ear and whispering, 

"You got that two dollars babes, you could pay me if you wanted." Newt twisted his neck to look at the brunette who winked. The blond just rolled his eyes and lightly smacked him over the head, before glancing down at his lap and muttering,

"You're like an incubus."

"You love me really." Thomas replied smugly. 

"You wish." The laughter slowly dissolved into small chatter, before Minho nudged Newt's side with his elbow, gaining everyones attention.

"Look who's coming our way." The blond glanced up, groaning as he saw Gally sauntering toward them. 

"Oh god. Someone shoot me." Newt sunk into his chair, Sonya frowning at the boy as he approached.

"Newt, you disappeared last night. We had so much unfinished business." 

"Piss off Gally. I'm not interested." he muttered, watching as the drummer scanned around the group, before his eyes landed on Sonya. 

"Well well well, who's this pretty lady?" He asked, scooping up Sonya's hand and kissing it. The girl grimaced, tugging her hand away. "Oh come on, these guys been spreading a bad word on my name?" He smiled at the girl, making Newt's insides twist. The blond prided himself on being calm and collected, it was probably something he was best at. But not when it came to Sonya. If anyone tried anything on her, especially someone like Gally, he would hold no hesitation, and would find a certain sadistic pleasure in ripping their arms from their sockets. "I'm not as bad as they say cutie," the boy continued. "I could treat you good." Newt snapped.

"Alright that's it-" Newt stood up and dove forward, only to have his forearms grabbed by Thomas and Minho. "LEMME AT HIM IM GONNA SHOVE HIS EYES DOWN HIS THROAT AND MAKE HIM WATCH AS I PULL HIS ORGANS OUT WITH MY BARE HANDS." He kicked and threw himself forward, trying to struggle his way out of his friends grip.

"You should go." Sonya smiled sweetly, Thomas nodding in agreement.

"Before we let him go." Minho added. Gally glanced toward the boy, who was now being lifted off the ground, still kicking and yelling, by his waist by Thomas so that he couldn't kick anyone.

"LET ME GO." Newt yelled, trying to wriggle from Thomas's iron grip around his waist. Gally backed up, shock and slight fear swallowing his confused eyes as he rounded a corner and disappeared.

"Ok Newt he's gone now, stop kicking me!" Thomas gripped onto whatever flailing limbs he could. 

"Newt, let it go." Sonya sipped her soda, sighing slightly. Newt immediately sagged back into Thomas with a loud huff off annoyance.

"Ok, we good?" The drummer murmured into his ear, still holding the bassist about two feet in the ear.

"Yes." the blond grumbled. The brunette let go off him, putting him back in his chair. Then he sunk down into the one next to his, keeping one hand on Newt's knee, a small part of the blonds pounding heart beginning to flutter.

"Damn Newt I've never seen you snap like that." Brenda scoffed slightly.

"He pisses me off." The blond mumbled, taking long gulps go his drink.

"I mean I'm impressed. But damn." She laughed softly. "Got yourself a body guard here huh?" She turned to Sonya.

"More of a guard dog. All bark and no bite." she shrugged. "Unless he's got a crowbar."

-

Newt rolled over in bed, glancing at his ceiling. He was putting off revision, looking for any excuse not to do it. The distraction came in the form of a text from Thomas. 

 **[From Tommy: Newt?]** Newt glanced at the text, grinning slightly to himself.

**[To Tommy: Yes?]**

**[From Tommy: During your little outburst back there, whilst you were threatening Gally's life, did you perhaps get that two dollars into my pocket?]**

**[To Tommy: I don't know what you're talking about]**

**[From Tommy: Cheeky little devil. How did you even manage that?]**

**[To Tommy: Shit happens Incubus]**

**[From Tommy: I'm so glad I don't have to see that smug smirk on your face right now]**


	14. Fourteen

"Come on Newtie, loosen up." Minho jumped up and down, wiggling his fingers and arms.

"How is this supposed to help me play better?" Newt asked skeptically, raising an eyebrow from where he was sat at the drum set.

"You think too much when you play. Actually, you just think too much. You need to clear your head and relax, that's when you play your best." Minho crossed his arms over his chest.

"It's repetitive, and I don't need to think about where I'm putting my fingers, so I think." he shrugged.

"Repetitive huh?" Minho pursed his lips in thought. "Grab your guitar, come with me." he grabbed his own guitar and made for the door. The blond blinked and grabbed his bass, following the asian out of the practice room and down a corridor. He decided not to ask where they would go, Minho had a habit of telling him that patience was a virtue.

"It kind of amazes me how much you love music." he noted instead.

"What do you mean?" his best friend asked, taking a sharp turn down the deserted hall.

"Well, I guess I always thought popular people weren't passionate about anything. But you are. It's good."

"You're acting like you forget I'm human." the boy scoffed, jogging up a flight of stairs, and waiting at the top for the limping, bass-carrying blond.

"Eh. Sometimes I guess." Newt shrugged. "You know you're my best friend right?" He blinked. Minho stopped by a door, turning and genuinely smiling back at the bassist.

"You're my best friend too." He nodded toward him and opened the room into the auditorium. Newt furrowed his brow slightly.

"What' we in here for?" He asked, following the boy down to the stage.

"Well you said it was repetitive, and we don't want you loosing your flare, so let's shake it up a bit." he smirked lightly, placing his prized instrument on a seat, before taking Newt's bass from him and making his way onto the stage. The blond followed him, watching as Minho fiddled with wires and an amp.

"I don't follow." he frowned as the boy turned around, handing him his bass back and then jumping off the stage, heading to the sound desk. Newt slung the strap over his shoulder, raising an eyebrow at his friend as Minho fiddled with buttons and dials.

"Go on. Try it." Minho encouraged. Newt frowned slightly, fingering an A and then picking at the string with his other fingers. The loud sound of the bass seemed to move from the instrument into the ground, and Newt whistled.

"Now that is a nice sound."

"I know right. Try play something. Make the ground shake mate." Minho scoffed, exchanging a grin with him as the two inwardly geeked out about how amazing bass was. Newt cracked his neck on either side, before picking out a random tune and beginning to pluck at it. The sound shook the whole room, smooth and growling at the same time, Newt only getting encouraged as the tune picked up and the ground shaking became co-ordinated. 

Newt had played bass for a long time. He remembered the first time he'd seen someone play it. The sound seemed to shake it's way into his soul, the pit of his stomach, and for the rest of the night he focused on nothing else. When he went home and found out how under appreciated bassists often were, he was sad, but not deterred. He'd gone bounding to his mother, squealing about how he wanted to play it. She'd bought him one the next week.

To start with, he wasn't good. Of course, no one is good at an instrument they just start, but Newt, really wasn't good. His fingers couldn't reach half the notes, and he'd never been so disappointed. But his mum had told him that he just had to keep at it and let his hands adjust, that he'd get there eventually. Which he had. He'd played loudly, filled with his own determination and that of his mothers. And then she'd died.

Everything had gotten very quiet after that. Newt didn't want to play at all. He felt as though it might be cursed, and he was angry at the guitar. About three months later, he'd picked it up out of chance, and ended up playing and crying over it until the sun rose. The morning after, he'd marched downstairs, walked Sonya to school, and booked his dad an appointment with a therapist.

But he'd never played with an amp. He'd never been able to fill the room with the growl like he'd wanted too, like his mother had wanted too. And now that he had, even if the only person in the room was Minho, he felt good. It felt good. It felt amazing.

"YES NEWT!" Minho bounded forward, whipping the blond out of his thoughts, where he became subtly aware that he'd finished playing about ten seconds ago. "That is what we need! That was incredible!" He practically launched himself onto the stage in excitement. "Mate, I don't know where you just went, but wherever it was, go back. That was fucking amazing!"

"That was.." Newt blinked, slightly unsure about what had just happened. "Awesome!" He grabbed Minho's arm, the asian grabbing his own. At some point they'd started jumping up and down in excitement, babbling about how cool music was.

"I'm getting the other's in here now!" Minho grinned.

 


	15. Fifteen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes. I kept the name Mary Greene, some of ya'll will be able to spot that reference ;;))))) LET ME LIVE OK I MISS MARY

"Guess what?" Thomas sighed slightly, dropping his phone back into his bag. Newt blinked at him, spearing a piece of celery and crunching down on it. He had a thing for salads, Newt had never been one for heavy meals.

"What?" Teresa asked.

"My Mom and my Step-Dad want you guys to come round for dinner," he grimaced, "says we can order pizza and shit. My mom says she wants us all to celebrate before we all go to the competition tomorrow." he sighed.

"You're too mean to your mom, she's lovely." Brenda smacked his arm lightly. "Sounds fun."

"Sure. Why not. Get to see Chuckie and Mary again." Teresa agreed.

"Any excuse to see Mrs Greene again." Minho grinned, earning a smack over the head. Teresa and Brenda snorted into giggles.

"Am I missing something here?" Newt asked, confused as to what was so funny.

"Everyone loves Mrs. Greene. Like, seriously, I don't know how great your mom is, but Mary is an absolute gem. I don't think anyone could ever hate her." Brenda laughed lightly. Newt smiled softly. He'd kill to have his mother back. He'd kill to even have ten more minutes with her. The blond shook himself out of his thoughts, nodding slightly.

"Oh god, can you imagine how much she's going to love Newt?" Teresa cackled.

"Fuck my life." Thomas groaned, burying his head in his arms.

"I don't get what you mean." 

"Oh don't worry mate. You will." Minho smacked his back lightly, laughing to himself.

-

Newt did. From the moment the mother was introduced to the slightly jumpy, blond, British kid, she'd practically fallen in love. Mary was a smaller woman, with dark hair, much like her sons, and kind eyes that practically twinkled every time she smiled. Which was constantly. 

Thomas's step-dad was slightly different. Vince had long fair hair, slightly darker than Newt's, that was swept back in an untidy ponytail. His eyes, whilst still friendly, were slightly piercing and intimidating, and he seemed to only smile when around Mary or Chuck.

Chuck was a whole other story. The boy was fourteen, pudgy and probably the smiliest boy Newt had ever met. He had large curls, that bounced every time he took a step. The boy seemed to be completely transfixed by Minho, and spent the majority of his time trying to impress him.

Newt liked them. Thomas got on well with them, not afraid to show that he cared for his mother around his friends (which, on another note, Newt found incredibly endearing and attractive), got more than one punch on the arm from Vince, and tried his best to include Chuck whenever possible. The rest of their friends seemed completely at ease, as if they were in their own home.

Pizza was ordered, and the five spread out in the living room, eventually being joined by the two parents and Thomas's step brother. And it didn't feel weird, or awkward, as they all munched away and watched a movie, low conversations scattered between individuals. No. It felt nice. Simply, nice.

Vince had put himself in what was evidently _his_ armchair, Mary perching on the arm as she came in and out of the room. Minho sat on the couch, where it reclined, Chuck chatting his ear off and eating next to him. On the other side of the couch, was Brenda and Teresa, watching the movie intently and sharing a blanket. Newt was sat own the floor in front of the couch, one side pressed up to where it jutted out into an L shape. Thomas slid in next to him from where he had been sat on the furniture, and instead of leaving space between them, like he totally could have done, he instead chose to go shoulder to shoulder, hip to hip with the blond.

"Hi." he whispered.

"Hey." Newt murmured back, hoping the low light disguised the light pink on his cheek bones.

"Are you feeling ok?" He asked, squeezing the bassists knee, which was pulled up tightly to his chest.

"Sure, why wouldn't I be?" He asked, looking toward the brunette, who turned his head back to him. The sudden eye contact had Newt's heart pounding. He had only ever made eye contact with Thomas a few times, but now that it was happening, and he was so close, the blond could practically feeling his gut twisting in nerves.

He'd never practically studied Thomas's eyes. They were like an amber colour, not too light but not too dark. They held nothing intimidating or malicious about them, which somehow surprised Newt. He supposed Thomas could definitely come off intimidating in the corridors, or when he was flirting with the girls. Newt wouldn't know about that, it wasn't like Thomas had ever flirted with him. Well, of course there was the odd comment or touch, but Thomas did that with everyone. Didn't he?

"Well, I just wondered if everyone talking about my mom, made you feel a little uncomfortable or something earlier." The drummer shrugged, keeping his hand on Newt's knee, and subconsciously, the blond assumed, tracing small circles with his thumb.

"Oh no." Newt waved him off, swallowing his nerves, "it's alright. I can't get all upset every time someone brings up there mum." he laughed quietly. Thomas nodded lightly, not breaking the eye contact, like he was scared that if he did, he wouldn't be able to get it back again. So Newt didn't break it either. They just watched each others eyes for a while, taking in the feature that they'd never seen so close up and for so long before. Thomas subconsciously licked his lips, an action that had Newt's stomach practically threatening to wring itself out.

"H-How are you feeling about tomorrow?" Thomas stammered slightly, after a while.

"Nothing we haven't done before, right?" He whispered, barely aware of the words that were coming out of his mouth as he watched the colours from the TV reflect back in the drummers hazel irises.

"I suppose." Thomas shrugged slightly, seeming a bit more composed than Newt was. 

"Thomas! Can you help me with something?!" Vince called from the kitchen. Both boys snapped out of it, realising that Vince had left his chair, and that Mary was watching them from the doorway. Newt suddenly became acutely aware of the four pairs of eyes on the back of his head as well. Thomas stared for a moment, seemingly confused about who had called him.

"Tommy, Vince wants you." Newt reminded him, staring at his knees.

"Oh, right." Thomas stood up, crossing the room and disappearing from view. 

"Hang on. Tommy?" He heard Chuck say, confused. Minho leant forward, and suddenly he had all three of his friends heads by his.

"Newt, can we chat?" Teresa asked, already hauling the bassist to his feet. Newt was pulled out into the hall, blinking at the three, who were all grinning from ear to ear.

"Why are you all grinning like that?" He asked, staring at the banisters behind them.

"Mate, that's the longest I've ever seen you keep eye contact with anyone! I'm like, kind of proud." Minho scoffed, earning a light smack.

"Newt, is there something you'd like to tell us?" Brenda crossed her arms over her chest.

"I-I do- I don't know what you're talking about." he stuttered, giving it away from a mile. He inwardly cursed his nerves. He wouldn't call it anxiety. He wouldn't call it paranoia. But Newt certainly had some issues. After his mothers death, after his fathers issues and then Sonya's, he'd had a huge issues with nerves. He'd seize up in big crowds, or in front of big crowds, which was also one of the reasons he hadn't wanted to audition. He was often hyperaware of the people around him, and had a strange fear of being followed. Sometimes, his nerves got the best of him, and Newt would need a moment to calm down. But he made it work. Just like he made his limp work.

"You like him!" Teresa gasped, practically jumping back. Newt clamped a hand over her mouth.

"Shush! I don't want the whole bloody street to know!" he hissed. She muffled out an apology and he retreated.

"My baby's finally grown up." Minho grinned, pretending to wipe away a ear. He smacked the guitarist again.

"I knew it all along." Brenda stood back with her hands on her hips. "I was just waiting for you to admit it. Now's the time to make the move Newtie."

"Oh no, no I couldn't. I'd die of a heart attack before I could do that." he whispered, staring at his shoes. The three crossed their arms over their chests and exchanged a glance.

"Maybe you don't have too."


	16. Sixteen

"I'll be in the audience!" Sonya kissed his cheek quickly and bounded off toward the main entrance. Newt swallowed dryly and followed the thin stream of people holding instruments, flowing into the back entrance of the huge town hall. The blond clutched his guitar case like a lifeline and followed. He slipped in between the groups in halls and corridors, before he found his friends in a corner of a room near the stage door, setting up their instruments. Newt tripped his way toward them, almost crashing into Thomas.

"Hey." he squeaked.

"Hi." Thomas smiled, placing a hand on the small of his back to steady him.

"Any chance it's not too late to back out now?" He muttered, propping his guitar case against the walls.

"Whats wrong?" The drummer frowned quietly.

"Not sure if you noticed, but, I got some issues with neves." Newt told the floor. "Can't even make eye contact with you." he mumbled. Thomas took two fingers and gently guided the bassists chin up, initiating eye contact.

"Hey," he said softly, "I get nervous too. But all you have to do is play like how you played with Minho, with the amp?" The blond nodded once. "What were you thinking about then?"

"My mum." Newt shrugged.

"Then think about her." He murmured. "I think about my dad sometimes when I play. Makes me passionate. He was a good guy, a passionate guy. I know he would have been proud of me. Would she have been proud of you?" Thomas asked riskily. Newt could have easily taken that the wrong way. Newt could have easily walked away, calling him insensitive. But the blond knew that wasn't what he'd intended, Thomas was a good person.

"Yes. I think so. She bought me my bass guitar." He nodded toward the case.

"Then go out there and play for her. Pretend she's the only one in the audience." The brunette smiled softly. Newt just nodded again. "Chin up babes." Thomas winked, sauntering off to talk to Minho. Newt glanced down at his shoes in embarrassment, before hiding himself in the process of getting out and making sure his guitar was tuned.

"Is coffee really a good idea?" Newt glanced up, only to see Brenda with her hands on her hips, watching Teresa down what looked like a shot of espresso.

"Yes. It makes me quicker." The girl fired back, cracking each knuckle individually. Newt put his pick between his teeth and listened to his strings, watching the two girls. "You're voice nice and warm?" She asked, changing the subject.

"Should be. It's feelin' fine." Brenda shrugged. "You think we can win?" She asked, sighing slightly.

"Sure do. We're good Bren', we know that." The keyboardist crossed her arms over her chest.

"Yeah, but are we better than the bias is the real question." the singer fired back, hands on her hips.

"Well, only one way to find out." her friend shrugged, patting her shoulder before going off, probably to find another espresso shot. Newt sighed slightly, tucking the pick into the second fret and leaving it propped up on the wall. He was about to go talk to the others, when he saw Gally marching toward him, followed by Winston, Ben, Alby and Frypan.

"Hello Newt." the drummer said reclusively, keeping his distance.

"Hello Gally." Newt replied curtly, Thomas glancing up from where he was, Brenda and Minho turning to watch the two as well.

"Good luck out there." The boy nodded toward the blond, who nodded back.

"You too. I hope it goes well for you." Gally nodded once again, before turning on his heel and walking away. His four bandmates studied Newt for a moment longer, before following their drummer. The blond sighed.

"You really did scare him man." Minho scoffed slightly.

"Well, it was about time someone did." Brenda laughed, watching Teresa bound back toward them. Newt's phone buzzed from inside his pocket, and his eyes widened at the message.

 **[From Dad: Good luck out there Newt. Sonya's taking a video of it, so I can watch it when she gets back. Hope all goes well, -Dad]** The blond bit his lip, not wanting to admit to himself that that small message meant so much to him. Even if his dad couldn't find the strength to actually go outside, he was still making the effort.

 **[To Dad: Thanks Dad, means a lot :)]** A man with a clipboard and an earpiece strutted toward them, glancing down at his clipboard once more.

"Yes, are you The Gladers?" He asked. Minho nodded. "Great. You're up next."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this chapters so short eh. Next couple will be exciting tho lmao. Thanks for the support <3


	17. Seventeen

Newt could hear nothing but the pounding in his ears. Somewhere in the back of his mind he felt his feet moving, saw himself following his friends. Then he saw blaring, blinding lights, and heard disembodied cheers. He felt himself slip on the strap of his guitar, and heard himself swallow. 

He couldn't do this. There was too many people, and too many ways it could go wrong. He didn't want to ruin this for his friends, but he was already sweating too much, and his fingers were too shaky to even hold his pick. He knew his knees could give out at any moment, and the blood in his veins was deafening. Newt glanced at his friends to see if they were having the same thoughts.

Minho took a deep breath, nodding toward Brenda, who swallowed and took the microphone up in her hand. Teresa cracked her knuckles and glanced at Thomas, who rolled his shoulders back once and found Newt's eye. He nodded and sent the blond a small smile.

Newt couldn't hear. He couldn't see. He couldn't breathe. The world began to spin, and in the blinding lights Newt searched. The bassist kept searching, before he found her. Sonya was holding up her phone with one hand, and giving him a thumbs up with the other. There was Sonya, supporting him. And his father was there in spirit, his phone still tucked in his back pocket. Newt put a hand on his guitar.

His mother was there. And he would play for her.

He cracked his neck and readjusted the strap, nodding back toward Thomas. The brunette nodded, and kicked into the beat passionately, immediately seemingly forgetting about the world around him. Newt found his first chord, and picked at it. Then the next. Then the next. 

_"Mummy, I can't do it." Newt sobbed, clinging to his mothers arm._

_"Come now Newtie, you've only been playing for a month." she reassured him, scooping him up in her arms._

_"But it's too hard. The frets are to far apart." he hiccuped, clutching his mother tightly and crying into her chest._

_"You have to stick with it sweetie. It'll get easier."_

She was right. It did get easier. Newt let the tune guide him as his fingers plucked seamlessly and effortlessly at the strings, other hand sliding up and down the frets like he was born to do it.

_"I did it Mummy, I passed my first grade!" Newt yelled, running toward his mother, certificate in hand._

_"Really?!" She crouched down, the blond running straight into her arms._

_"Uh huh! With merit." he grinned proudly, letting his mother see the piece of card, but not letting her touch it._

_"Well, this calls for celebration!" She kissed his forehead._

Newt kept plucking. Yes. A celebration. That's exactly what she was. A celebration of life. Of everything beautiful. Of life and joy and art and love and music. And he knew she was there. Somewhere in that crowd, was his mother. And she was proud of him.

_"Hey Mum, guess what?" Newt crossed his arms over his chest, trying not to grin._

_"What sweetie?" She asked, turning from where she was setting out plates._

_"I passed my last grade. Grade Eight with distinction." He held out the card. She burst into a grin, tugging him into her arms and peppering his face with kisses. "Mum-I-Mum get off!" He spluttered._

_"Sorry sweetie, I'm just so proud!" She grinned. "I remember when your tiny little hands couldn't even reach the frets." She held out one of his hands_. 

Newt played for her. Because thats what she would have wanted. She would have wanted him to show off what he learnt whilst doing his final grade. Show off the fact that, yes, he could reach all of the frets. And when he finished, he knew he played his best.

Newt turned to see his friends, all slightly out of breath and grinning from ear to ear. The audience was silent for a moment, before the whole room rose to their feet, cheering and applauding.

"Did we do good?" Newt asked over the cheers.

"Yeah." Thomas replied breathlessly. "Yeah we did good."

-

Newt sat on the floor in one of the rooms by Thomas's feet. Thomas and Brenda were sat on the only chairs, Minho perching between them and Teresa standing behind the back of the chair Brenda was sat on. They were all silently listening to their schools band, Newt grimacing every time Winston got a note wrong.

"Theres no way we can loose." Teresa murmured, eyes bolted forward on the opposite wall. "We made no mistakes."

"Might be a chance we're too good. Think we're taking drugs or something." Brenda suggested with a shrug.

"Yeah, but we're not." Newt laughed. Then he paused and turned to look up at them. "We're not, right?" Thomas nudged his shoulder with his foot, leaning backward.

"No, we're not doing drugs." he scoffed.

"Then, why are we worrying? They can't not choose us because we're _too_ good, that completely defeats the object of a competition." the bassist shrugged.

"I hope you're right newt." Minho frowned.

-

All the bands piled on stage, each huddled in their small groups, squished up against each other. The audience were murmuring in low whispers, glancing at all of them. Newt glanced at his sister, who gave him another thumbs up and a small smile. A man in a suit with a envelope, came sauntering on stage, the whole room watching his every move. He took the microphone up in the middle of the stage and cleared his throat.

"Thank you, to all our amazing bands tonight!" The audience applauded. "But of course, there can be only one winner." he sighed. "Now, you all did amazingly, but, the judges have come to a decision." he opened the envelope. "And the winner, is," he slid the card out of the packaging and glanced at it, before announcing, 

"It's Maze School's Band!" 

Newt had never felt more guilty.


	18. Eighteen

They sat there for a long time in silence, all piled into Thomas's living room. Sonya sighed softly against her brothers side, typing something out in her phone. Thomas chewed on his lips, sat opposite the two blonds on the floor, pressed up against the mantle piece. Minho and Teresa were sat on one side of the couch together, the girl with her head on her friends chest, with her eyes closed as Minho absentmindedly played with her hair. Brenda was curled up on the other side of the couch, eating her way through a sharing pack of crips. Mary watched from the doorway, concerned and saddened. 

The group had been silent for almost four hours now. After the winners were announced, everyone got up and cheered for Gally and his crew, the others taking the loss as graciously as they could. The only thing that seemed to lift their spirits slightly was the on pour of people telling them that they should have won after they appeared from the stage door.

Brenda phone cut through the silence.

"That's my mom. I have to go." she stood up. 

"Are you walking?" Minho asked.

"Yeah." she sighed, shrugging on a coat.

"Let me give you a lift. It's dark and cold." he attempted to pry himself from Teresa, who sat up.

"Mind giving me one home too?" She asked sheepishly.

"Course. Sorry Newt, I can't fit you and Son' in too." The guitarist frowned apologetically, pulling on his jacket.

"I'll drive you home." Thomas waved them off. Minho nodded, the two girls smiling and following him out with a call about seeing them on Monday. Sonya glanced up from her phone, trying to keep out of the awkwardness the best she could. She sunk down slightly, hiding herself behind the screen again. "Newt, can I have a word with you upstairs real quick?" Thomas asked, meeting the blonds eye. Newt immediately looked away, nodding and standing up.

"Be back in a minute Son'." he smiled, trudging up the stairs after his friend. Thomas turned into the room, closing the door behind the bassist.

"Stop." Thomas frowned. 

"Stop?" he repeated.

"You're blaming yourself. Stop it." Thomas elaborated, stepping toward the blond.

"Well, it is my fault," he sighed, shoulders sagging and gaze dropping to the floor. The truth was, Newt had never felt guiltier. These people who had barely known him at the time, had given up everything, their big break, for him. And he hadn't even wanted it. He felt ungrateful, and like he'd disappointed everyone important to him. "You all gave so much up for me. You could have won if it weren't for me, and the fact I can't get myself heard over the others." he sighed to the floor. Thomas took another step forward, gently pulling away Newt's hand where he was chewing on his nails nervously.

"Listen to me Newt," another step forward. "If we had gone with the school, and won the competition, we all know it wouldn't be based on our own talent. Id rather loose and have everyone telling us we should have won, because we have talent, than have a win based on the fact we're linked to our school. Yeah?"

"I guess." Newt sighed softly to himself, feeling the tiniest bit better. "You're not disappointed at all? I thought you really wanted this." he glanced up, only to find that Thomas's eyes were now bolted to the floor.

"I am. I told Chuck I'd do him proud. Now I just feel like a disappointment of a role model." he laughed sadly.

"Tommy, that's not true. You're the best older brother anyone could ever ask for, and he admires you enough as it is. You don't need to win a competition too prove that to yourself." he squeezed Thomas's hand, which was still wrapped around his own.

"You think he looks up to me?" Thomas blinked, eyes widening slightly at Newt's unusual, firm gaze.

"Yes. He looks at you like you're a saint every time you do anything mildly interesting. And I saw him today, in the crowd. He looked so..amazed. Like he'd just discovered something amazing. Trust me, you have way more of an impact on him than you think you do." he didn't leave Thomas's eye, even if he could feel his blood rushing that little bit faster.

"You really think that?" Thomas whispered, suddenly seeming incredibly vulnerable and small.

"Of course not." Newt scoffed. "I know that." Thomas's sudden vice tight grip around him took him but surprise, and he took a moment to process what was happening before hugging his friend back.

"How do you do it?" Thomas asked from the crook of the blonds neck.

"Do what?"

"Be so selfless all the time. Do you ever think about what you want? Do you ever just let your body have what it wants? Do you let your mind have what it wants? Do you even let your heart have what it wants?" He asked, pulling back slightly to look at Newt.

"Always. I want the people I love to be happy, and as long as they are, I'm getting what I want." he shrugged. Although that was true, Newt could think of a million things he wanted. His dad to sort out his shit. Sonya to get a full education. His mother to come back. Of course he wanted little things too. He wanted to spend more time with Teresa. He wanted Brenda to tell him what she was going to at the party. He wanted Minho to give him back his _Huger Games_ DVD. He wanted to find out what Thomas's lips tasted like.

"But, like other things. Like normal things a teenager wants. Like, to have a beer?" Newt shook his head. "To be popular?" Another shake. "A boyfriend?" He tried exasperatedly. The blonds mind short circuited, and he found himself blinking at his friend instead of giving him an answer. Thomas noticed. "A boyfriend huh? You have a crush on someone Newt?" He asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Well..I..it's..uh.." he stammered.

"Can I guess?" The drummer asked. Newt just swallowed dryly and nodded once. Thomas pursed his lips in thought and drummed his fingers on his bicep. The blond chewed on the inside of his cheek, heart hammering against his rib cage. "Well.."

Suddenly Newt felt the press of the wall against his back, but there was another press, against his lips. What. What was happening? Was he being kissed? Was Thomas kissing him? Holy fuck Thomas was kissing him. He felt, _right_. It was a solid press, like there was nothing missing. He tasted faintly sweet, lips tender, but from against Newt's own at the same time. The drummers hands started at the top of his sides, trailing down to his waist as the bassist wrapped his own around Thomas's neck hesitantly. Then one hand slid up to cup Newt's jaw as he pulled away slowly, the blond having to consciously stop himself from chasing after Thomas's lips. Thomas watched Newt for a moment, smirking softly to himself.

"Huh. So it's me."


	19. Nineteen

Newt opened and closed his mouth like a fish, eyes wide and cheeks burning. Thomas just smiled sweetly and ran his thumb down the blonds jaw.

"Minho and the girls told me they thought you liked me, but I couldn't be sure." he murmured, "not yet."

"We-well I-uh-" Newt stammered.

"It became fairly obvious when you kept eye contact with me the other night." Thomas chuckled lightly, before replacing his hand with his lips, kissing Newt's jaw lightly. The blond swallowed dryly.

"Hang on, hang on." he only earned a glance up to show that Thomas was listening as he began to trail a line of soft kisses down his jaw. "You've known for two days?" He practically squeaked, mind folding back on itself as he tried to process what was happening.

"Yeah, just didn't get the chance to have you alone." The drummer shrugged, becoming a little more demanding with his kisses.

"Wait, wait, Tommy, just hold on a second." he put his hands on the brunettes shoulders, Thomas moving his mouth away from his neck and raising an eyebrow. "Look, I've had crushes before, but, n-never like this. I r _eally_ like you. Like, _a lot_. And I don't-I don't want to do this with you if you're just in it for sex. I don't think I could live with it just being a fling that means nothing to you. I stand by what I said, about there needing to be a connection for me." he mumbled to the floor, heart pounding out of his chest.

"Newt, come on," Thomas cupped his jaw again, bringing his face closer to the blonds. "I know that. And I get it, it's usually just for the sex. But not this time. I like you too, dummy. I mean, I love you babes but you seriously need to buy a clue. I've been flirting with you since day one."

"Y-you have?" he blinked, only realising how close Thomas was when he looked up.

"Yes." The drummer laughed softly. "I really like you too. I'm not just in this for the sex, promise." he ran his hand up Newt's forearm, squeezing his hand when he found it. Newt swallowed, and, on impulse, moved forward and captured the brunettes lips in his own. Thomas seemed startled, clearly not the one being kissed very often, before complying softly and sweetly. Newt backed up, giving a small smile to the ground. "Believe me?" 

"Yeah." he mumbled, before meeting the brunettes eye. "Not just for sex?"

"Not just for sex." Thomas repeated, kissing the blond sweetly again. Newt nodded, the moment over. It was only then that he realised how much he was blushing, how hard his heart was beating, and how close Thomas was, pressed up against him. He also realised, rather guiltily, how much he was lusting after Thomas, who apparently had the exact same idea at the exact same time. "But I'd be lying if I said I didn't really want to get you on that bed right now." he breathed out quickly. "You cool with that?"

"Yes." Newt barely had time to finish his word before there was a clatter of teeth and tongue. There were hands everywhere, grabbing and grasping at whatever they could. The bassist felt his head hit the wall behind him as Thomas practically attacked his neck, biting and sucking at wherever he wanted. Newt let out a breathy moan, gripping at Thomas's back as the brunette pressed his thigh between the blonds legs, earning a catch of breath.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, Newt felt quite guilty as shirts came over their heads, after the disappointment they'd had that day, he and Thomas had just pushed it aside and were now acting like none of it mattered, and that Thomas's entire family wasn't downstairs. Thomas found a place to suck on Newt's collarbone, causing a tight knot to pull sharply in the pit of the bassists stomach. Oh well. He blamed it on hormones, teenagers would be teenagers after all. Wait. Teenagers.

"Tommy..we.." he tried breathily, "Sonya.." he got out, before adding on his point, "your family..downstairs..oh fuck." he caught his breath again as Thomas took both of the blonds wrists and pinned them against the wall above Newt's head with one hand.

"How many times have I told you to stop worrying so much Newt?" The drummer asked from his pale collarbone.

"A lot." he mumbled. "But..but I am right.." he tried again. "Sonya'll come looking..soon.." 

"Well then we'll make her go downstairs." Thomas groaned, already knowing Newt was right, "but I've wanted you for so long," he whined, pushing his head against Newt's shoulder and leaving a peppering of kisses there. The blond burst into another flurry of blushes. "Moment I laid eyes on you." he continued against the blonds skin. "I wanted to kiss you and kiss you and cuddle you and be there for you and hold your hand and do things to you and," he sighed exasperatedly, letting go of Newt's wrists and catching his lips in a softer kiss, "I wanted you to be mine." Newt just nodded in agreement, words having caught in his throat. "I still want that."

"I want that too." Newt whispered out, eyes not leaving Thomas's for a second. 

"Then be mine. If you want." Thomas said, possibly the smallest bit sheepishly and nervously. Newt laughed quietly, glancing at the ground.

"You can't want that. Everyone would hate me. All the girls would be mad at me." he shrugged. "And, wouldn't you want a beautiful girl to be yours more? I mean, that's go down better with the school. Someone more popular I suppose." He frowned at the floor.

"Why would I care about what they think?" Thomas cupped his jaw once again, this time running his thumb over Newt's cheekbone. "I couldn't care less about what those girls want. Because you're right. They don't care about me like you do, they just want sex. And I couldn't care less about how popular you are Newt. I like you because you're strong, and sharp, so incredibly sharp, selfless, determined and beautiful. Thats a lot harder to find than you would think." 

"You really think that?" Newt glanced up again, this time keeping the eye contact. The drummer nodded and smiled, pecking Newt on the lips again.

"So. Do you want too?" 

"I'd like that very much actually." he nodded, chewing on his lip to stop the smile from spreading on his face. Thats when Sonya walked in, knocking and calling for her brother as she did so.

"Yeah I'm not even going to ask." she took one look at the two shirtless boys, sweaty and smiling, pressed against the wall, didn't even hesitate, turned on her heel and left. Newt scoffed, squeezing Thomas's hand.

-

When he left, he felt something in his pocket. When he pulled it out, he found the neatly folded two dollar bill in it. He rolled his eyes with a pout, finding a little heart scribbled onto the top corner.

"Dork." he scoffed fondly to himself.


	20. Twenty

Newt jumped out of his car, pushing his sunglasses a top his head and making his way toward the entrance. Thomas got out of his car as soon as he saw the blond, immediately falling into step  with him, Newt not even having to slow down.

"Good morning." he smiled, pecking the bassist on the nose. Newt swallowed as colour rose to his cheeks, managing to squeak out a greeting. "Aw, you're still getting flustered?"

"Well yeah," he shrugged at the floor. "I haven't seen you since Friday, and I missed you. It's all just new." he mumbled. Thomas stopped, pulling the blond to a halt. Newt looked up, blinking slightly. The drummer had a wide smile on his face.

"I missed you too." he smiled, finding Newt's lips again for a brisk kiss. "You ok to do this?" He asked, running a hand through the blonds hair, which flopped back in  his eyes.

"Yeah. Sure. Most I'll get are a couple glares, right?" He wasn't so sure of himself, but he tried to let his own words convince himself.

"Course." Thomas squeezed his hand tightly, bringing it up to his lips softly.

"Then let's do it." Newt smiled softly at the brunette. Thomas nodded and turned on his heels, keeping their fingers intertwined as he pushed open the door. Newt followed briskly, keeping up as best he could. Immediately, people started nudging each other and pointing the two out, frowning in confusion and what looked like distaste. The blond sighed softly to himself, the whole ideal that the school had no social hierarchy seemingly being too good to be true. Thomas weaved within the students, humming softly to himself as he headed toward the music department, apparently lost in his own little world.

Newt tripped slightly over his own feet, cursing his own clumsiness as he crashed into Gally's chest. He blinked upward toward the boy, hand snagging on Thomas's as the drummer was tugged to a halt.

"Oh, sorry." Newt took a step back.

"No problem, you alright?" Gally asked softly, hand finding the small of the bassist's back as he seemingly didn't notice the hands held onto each other.

"I'm fine." he grumbled, side stepping into Thomas's side. Gally blinked down at their hands, raising his eyebrows. 

"Really?" He crossed his arms over his chest, " _him?"_ He sighed, sounding disappointed, slightly like a parent. Newt didn't like that very much.

"Yeah. What's it to you?" He asked, tongue sharper than he intended, not that he really cared. People began to watch, almost amused.

"Oh come on now babe, you could do so much better than whatever _that_ is." Gally motioned to Thomas. "I mean, have you met me?" He laughed softly, panning a hand down himself. Newt ran his tongue over his teeth, thoroughly fed up.

"Yes. Yes I have. And what I have learnt, is that Thomas is, so _very_ different to you. See, you, well you have the IQ of an actual donut, whereas I'm fairly certain Thomas could get a degree in almost anything he set his mind too. And, news flash, the reason you're so unpopular and have no one, is because your compassion seemingly shrivelled up and fucking died when you came out of the bloody womb." he waved his spare hand around. "The only positive attribute about you is that, yes, you are attractive. But you don't need glasses to see past those eyes at the actually awful person you are. Actually, you probably should wear some kind of eye protection, fairly sure those eyebrows could cut you just by looking at them." 

Everyone around them was sniggering and trying not to laugh, Gally blinking, shocked at Newt. Thomas was practically howling with laughter, managing, between his cackles, to lean forward and whisper,

"Are you an actual angel?" He asked as he led the blond away down the corridor.

"Someone had to say it." he grumbled.

-

As soon as Thomas opened the door to the practice room, the pair were greeted by three wolf whistles.

"Word spreads fast around here." Newt grumbled, letting go of Thomas's hands and slumping into a chair. Thomas pushed himself down into the chair next to him, humming in agreement.

"When did this happen?! And why did no one tell me?" Teresa waved her arms around in confusion and exaggeration. 

"Friday night. After you guys all left." Thomas answered with a scoff at her dramatisation.

"Thomas! What have I told you about fucking people when your pure little brother is in the house?" Brenda gasped with a grin, crossing her arms over her chest in mock anger.

"Good thing we didn't fuck then." Newt shrugged.

"I'm almost disappointed." Brenda frowned. "Has the sweet virgin Newt finally converted you to being a nun?" She asked. Thomas scoffed lightly.

"Yeah, no. I can tell you, from the way I was being kissed, this sweet virgin," he nodded toward the blond, "is almost the opposite to a sweet virgin." Newt choked, smacking his arm with a blush.

"A sour prostitute?" Minho asked.

"Oh don't be dumb, Newt's the purest person I've ever met." Teresa leaned forward and ruffled his hair, the bassist batting away her hands with a groan as Thomas laughed again.

"I won't say anything. I'll let you keep your good christian boy view of him." He shrugged. Minho pushed off of the radiator, coming closer to sit next to Newt.

"So are you two like a thing now? Or is it just sex?" 

"It's a thing last time I checked." Thomas shrugged, glancing at the blond for conformation, which he gave with a nod.

"Good. I'm glad. It was starting to get annoying watch Newt drool over you." The asian scoffed, Newt spluttering and punching his arm. "What? You did." The blond felt his cheeks on fire, as he glanced toward Thomas, who was smirking cockily at him.

"Don't look at him like that Thomas, I can't count how many times I caught you staring at his lips." Brenda shrugged. Thomas blinked with wide eyes, Newt leaning forward.

"Ha!"

"Ok shut up you." Thomas waved him off, blushing lightly. Newt leaned forward even more, struggling to keep the grin off his face.

"How about you make me."

"Oh yeah, how?" Thomas turned back to him, raising his eyebrow.

"I dunno, you tell me. Maybe something that'll keep Teresa thinking I'm a good christian boy." 

"I'm sorry, but I just can't imagine you doing anything but praying on Sunday's and eating pancakes." Teresa shrugged.

"Pancakes? Why would he eat pancakes?" Minho frowned at her.

"The whole Jesus's body thing, you know?" She crossed her arms over her chest.

"Dude, that's bread." Newt scoffed.

"See! Religious!" She pointed at the bassist, scoffing slightly.

"Teresa everyone knows its bread! You're supposed to be the smart one!" Brenda waved her arms around. They began to bicker about pancakes, when Newt felt his phone go off in his pocket. He pulled it open and blinked at it. 

 **[From Sonya: Newt check the link I just sent you!]** Newt scrolled up lightly, tapping on the link she'd sent. What he was presented with was a video of their performance at the competition, and it had been uploaded to YouTube. Newt rolled his eyes. Cheeky bugger.

**[To Sonya: Whats so amazing about it?]**

**[From Sonya: Dude, it's already almost got one million views. You're famous!]**

What. The. Fuck.


	21. Twenty-one

They all gathered around Sonya's laptop in Newt's kitchen, gasping as they watched the views and likes go up in the thousands every time she refreshed the page. There were millions of comments already, and quite frankly the blond felt weak at the knees.

"People want to donate money to you guys. To make songs and go on tour." Sonya scoffed in disbelief, slumping back.

"How..how did this happen?" Minho mumbled, watching the page.

"I don't know. I just posted it to YouTube for the fun of it, and I guessed it just blew up. People are saying you guys are better than professional bands." she laughed softly, skimming over the comments. 

"What..what do..what do we do?!" Teresa got out exasperatedly.

"Guys," Brenda gripped Newt and Teresa's arms, the people on either side of her. They all glanced at her, tearing their eyes away from the screen. "This is our big break. This is what we've always wanted." she almost laughed.

"Ok. Uh.." Thomas blinked, completely bewildered. "Well, what do we need? To get this going?" He asked. The others stared at him, minds all seemingly being put on hold. "We need social media accounts, so people can access us." He answered himself. "And, if people want to donate money to get us going, we need to set up a Go-Fund-Me or something. Good?" He asked. The four nodded, mouths all slightly agape. "Ok well get to it!"

-

Five hours later, they were all sprawled out in Newt's room, having been working on their laptops and phones to set everything up and plan what to do next for the last couple of hours. Minho was lay across the head of Newt's bed, with Teresa's head once again on his chest, laptop balancing on her hips, and Brenda curled up at his feet, hanging off the foot of the bed as she typed quickly on her phone. Sonya was scribbling in a  notebook at the foot of the bed, clicking her pen every now and then. Also on the floor was her brother, who was curled up against the radiator, sat below the windowsill by Thomas's feet. Thomas was on his laptop, sat at the windowsill, with one hand fiddling with the pick from Newt's guitar. 

"Is this really happening?" Brenda asked.

"I guess so." Minho laughed softly.

"And you really think we can find a record label?" The girl shot back.

"We'll have to wait and see I guess." The asian shrugged.

"So, say we do, and we make music, and it's popular. We can't go on tour, we have to finish our finals, and, like, education." Teresa shrugged as Minho loosely plaited her hair.

"We could go after our finals are finished. Take a gap year." Thomas murmured, turning the pick over in his fingers.

"Ok, rewind," Newt waved her arms around, drawing his knees up to his chest, " we can't just be talking about touring. We need agents, managers, producers." He listed off on his fingers.

"That's what the donations are for. To get money, to pay for that kind of things. And like, recording songs." Minho shrugged.

"This is mad. I can't believe we're even talking about this." Newt rubbed his eyes with the backs of his hands, overwhelmed and tired.

"I know." Teresa scoffed. "Sonya, how much in donations have we got so far?" She asked, lifting her head slightly to glance toward the blond girl. Sonya hummed in acknowledgement and drew up the page, whistling.

"Ten thousand." 

"Dollars?" Teresa's head shot up.

"Yes." Sonya scoffed.

"What the fuck is happening?" Thomas groaned, shoulders slumping. Newt opened his mouth, before hearing a crash from downstairs. His breath caught slightly, before he swallowed and met Sonya's worried glance as she twisted around. He stood up and crossed the room, squeezing her shoulder.

"Stay here, yeah?" He smiled reassuringly at her, trying not to focus on the four pairs of eyes on him, staring in confusion and slight worry. He rolled up his sleeves, and cleared his throat, before stepping out of the room, and closing the door. He sighed and headed downstairs, only to find his dad, on the floor in the middle of the kitchen. He strode toward him and crouched beside his elder.

"Dad, get up." he smacked the mans shoulder lightly. He groaned and curled up. "Ok," the bassist sighed, grabbing the mans limp arm and pulling it over his shoulder, "One." he took a deep breath, "two," he pushed up on his good foot, dragging the heavy man up with him, "three." he got out, beginning to make his way toward the stairs, tugging his dad with him. Pain shot up his bad leg, and he winced, inhaling sharply. "Come on dad, work with me here." he begged.

"Newt.." the man grumbled. "I..I..I saw..video.." he slurred out as he tripped over every step, feet dragging.

"Oh yeah? What did you think?" The blond tried to make it casual, just praying that curiosity didn't get the better of any of his bandmates.

"Y..your...m..mum...been proud.." he grumbled at the ground. "Newt?"

"Yeah?"

"..M..more..pills.." He groaned. Newt nodded, chewing on his lip. His fathers medication helped him stay off the drink, but it made him delirious, clearly, and was unbelievably expensive. Newt had no way to pay for it, his small job down at the vets didn't pay him enough to provide for his family, but, as he was the only one working, he had to thin it out. Painfully so.

"Yeah. Don't worry dad, I'll get you some." he nodded, pushing up his dads bedroom door and dropping him down on the bed. "Get some sleep." he turned off the light and closed the door, back sinking against it as he sighed.

He needed the money, desperately. As much as the idea, the prospect of this whole professional musician, which wasn't even the subject he was taking, terrified the shit out of him, he needed the money. He needed them to go on tour, and sell music. This was it, this really was the big break he'd needed. Newt had been flying by the seat of his pants for too long, barely getting by week after week. Only thing was, as much as he needed to go on tour, he couldn't leave Sonya there on her own with their father. Her education was still two years from being done, and she needed to spend all of her time on it, instead of cooking and cleaning which were jobs she'd have to take over. Now that Newt thought about it, the prospect of going back on  stage, and going on tour, almost forced his soul to leave his body. He was stuck.

If/when this hypothetical tour happened, he had two options. Go with them, make money and send it back to hid family. Take a gap year and leave Sonya to all the household responsibilities. Or, not go and let his friends down. He could still make money from selling music, but they'd just need a stand in bassist for the tour. Either way, he let someone down.

"Hey," Newt opened his eyes to find Sonya and Thomas knelt in front of him, the blond only then realising that he had curled up at the foot of his dads bedroom door. Oh great. The two people he had to choose over.

"Newt," Sonya said softly, taking his hand. "Maybe you should get some sleep. It's been a long day, and you're overwhelmed."

"No," he mumbled at their intertwined fingers, "I have to..cook..and get the washing out of the washer..and..and walk the dog..do we have a dog?" Newt wasn't sure when he'd become so delirious, but then again, he wasn't sure when the last time he slept properly was. Sonya and Thomas exchanged a glance. It was going to be  a long night.

 


	22. Twenty-two

The next week was a blur, as more views came flooding in, more money was donated and dozens upon dozen of emails sent asking for promotions and possible contracts. Sonya had seemingly become their temporary manager, assigning Thomas and Teresa to sift through the emails with her, Minho to respond to comments and help her plan and Brenda to write. Write as fast as she could.

Newt hadn't been assigned a job, feeling disconnected and odd as the world rushed on around him. Everything was moving way too quickly, and he couldn't quite get his bearings. So, the blond made himself useful by looking after Brenda. She needed it.

It was three in the morning, and Brenda was sat at Newt's desk, scribbling and running her hands through her hair. Behind her, Thomas had fallen asleep on top of Minho, Teresa had slipped off the bed onto the floor, and Sonya was face down in the carpet. Newt pulled up a chair and passed her a mug of tea.

"Hey." he murmured.

"Hi." she whispered, sighing slightly and putting down her pen, taking the tea with a small grateful smile.

"How are you feeling?" He asked quietly, glancing around the room at his friends.

"Tired. And, slightly scared. Ok, a lot scared." she admitted with a soft laugh.

"Tell me about it."

"I mean, a week ago we wouldn't have even thought about this. Now we're getting contract offers by the dozen." she scoffed, sinking slightly into the chair. He hummed in agreement.

"It's crazy." he mumbled. "How's your writing coming along?"

"Ok. I think I got about three songs on their first draft." she sighed slightly, sifting through the piles of crumpled paper.

"Jeez Bren', you should take a break. Get some sleep." he squeezed her shoulder softly.

"I will. Yeah, I will. I need it." she nodded slowly, blinking up at the bassist in low light. "How you holding up Newt?" She murmured, the blond chewing on his lip and hand falling from her shoulder.

"Just..overwhelmed. It's a lot going on at once." he ran a hand through his head. "I mean if I'd known that this was going to happen, I wouldn't have got with Tommy so soon. I haven't had a proper conversation with him since the day we found out about all of this."

"Well that's not great." she pursed her lips in thought. "But I get the feeling our lives are going to be like this for a while. I suppose, we just have to make time for personal things and relationships." she shrugged lightly.

"I guess." he nodded.

"Well for the record, I think you two are really sweet together." she grinned into her mug, earning a fond eye roll. "I'm impressed that he hasn't managed to get you in bed though."

"That usually his priority?" Newt guessed, leaning back.

"Well, usually. But those were always..you know, like, lust-based crushes. With you, I mean, it was kinda annoying. He wouldn't stop going on about you." she scoffed.

"Really?"

"Yeah. After he met you, he went to Minho and was like 'who is that, and how do I make him fall in love with me?'" She scoffed. "It was so dorky. Anyway, we figured it was just another one of those, 'oh he'll fuck them and then move on' crushes. But it wasn't. I've only ever seen Thomas completely love struck and flustered, like, stumbling over his words and being a complete dork around you. For a while I wondered how you hadn't noticed, but I suppose thats the only Thomas you've ever known. And I think you were so wrapped up in your own crush you didn't notice." she laughed lightly at the blonds blush.

'But you totally pissed him off. He'd come ranting and raving to us all the time about how oblivious you are. He told us, that he literally pinned you against a kitchen counter and you just waved him off. And don't think I didn't hear you two at the cafe, the guy literally offered to suck your dick for two dollars." she was struggling to contain her giggles.

"Well, I just thought that's what he was like normally." Newt tried to defend.

"I know." she nodded through her quiet giggles.

"Hey Bren?'" He blinked at her. "When you were drunk and wanted to tell me who liked me, was it Tommy?" The girl scoffed.

"Yeah. And he almost killed me. Like literally almost drove a chopstick through my heart." she laughed.

"Oh jeez." he chuckled, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand.

"You should get some sleep." she stood up, heading toward the bed where Thomas and Minho were sprawled on top of each other. She curled up on the end of it, yawning.

"Yeah. I will." he nodded. "Night Bren'."

"Night Newt."

There was no way he was sleeping.

-

"Newt, could you go out and get more coke?" Sonya asked, not even looking away from her computer screen. Newt hummed in acknowledgment, shrugging on his leather jacket and grabbing his keys.

"Hold up." Thomas appeared from the kitchen, grabbing his jacket. Newt raised his eyebrows. "I gotta get some fresh air man, I'm threatening to die from vitamin D deficiency." The blond just scoffed slightly and opened the door, crossing the drive and jumping into his car. Thomas jumped in the passenger seat, glancing at the bassist, who put his car in reverse and backed out of his drive.

They drove in silence, and Newt began to worry. He was a very anxious person, and tended to end up making situations a lot worse than they actually were in his head. Thomas's silence had his ming whirring. What had he done? Had he said something? Was it because they hadn't had time alone for a week? Was Thomas unhappy?

"You feeling' alright?" He felt a hand on his bicep, and the blond noticed his white knuckle grip on the steering wheel as he turned into the shops parking lot.

"Hm? Oh, yeah. I'm fine." he reassured with a swallow, turning into a space, parking the vehicle and shutting off the engine.

"Good." Thomas had his seatbelt off in a second flat, before reaching over and unbuckling Newts'. "Because I have been dying to get a moment alone with you for this whole fucking week." He twisted his body toward the blond, placing a palm on each cheek. The blond blinked in surprise, blushing lightly as the brunette ran his thumbs over his cheekbones. 

"Are _you_ feeling ok?" Newt murmured, hooking a leg over the passenger seat, bringing them closer.

"Sure. I'm ok." Thomas nodded, eyes never leaving the bassists features. "Just, finding it hard to process."

"I know." Newt nodded, glancing down at his lap. 

"But we can do it. Whatever _it_ is, we can do it. Together." Thomas smiled softly.

"Yeah. You're right." Newt told his lap. Thomas furrowed his brow.

"Newt? Why do you look at the ground so much? You have a thing about eye contact, have you noticed?" Newt swallowed, suddenly nervous.

"Yeah. Yeah I know. Just..my nerves. Sorry." he barely whispered.

"Sorry, that sounded way more accusing than I wanted it to." Thomas cursed himself. "I just wondered if you knew. It's ok it's not a bad thing. It's just..you have beautiful eyes. As it stands, your own feet seem to get the best view of them." he gently coaxed Newt's head up, in a way that asked for eye contact but didn't demand it. The blond mentally smacked himself. Why couldn't he do such a simple task like making eye contact without his palms getting sweaty? He glanced up, meeting Thomas's eye. "There you go." Thomas grinned. "Wasn't that bad, right?"

"Right." Newt breathed, heart thumping against his ribs.

"Ok, well that's ok. Confidence is something we can work on." the brunette offered. Newt just nodded, trying desperately not to look away. "Here." The drummer leaned forward, catching the blonds lips in a soft kiss. It had been a week. Of course, the odd peck was nothing, compared to this. This was mind-blowing, and although it had only been a week since they'd kissed like that last, Newt felt like it was the first time,and something he knew he would never, ever, get used too. Thomas pulled away by a centimetre, breath mingling. "God. It's only been a week, and I felt like I was going mad without this. Are you a drug?" He scoffed softly.

"I don't think so, but I know what you mean." he laughed quietly. "I'm not sure if it's possible to be addicted to a person, but if it is, I'm definitely addicted to you." he murmured, eyes never once leaving the drummers lips.

"Quite the poet aren't you?" Thomas laughed softly, leaning back into the door of the car, pulling Newt with him into his chest. The blond glanced upward, humming contently as fingers were intertwined into his hair, practically going limp at the touch. "Damn, you really got a thing for hair, huh?"

"Mmm. Can't help it." Newt murmured into his jacket, eyes immediately dropping close as the warmth and smell of Thomas made everything slightly sleepily muffled.

"It's cute." Thomas shrugged. But Newt was already asleep. For the first time that week.


	23. Twenty-three

Newt awoke with a jolt, the first thing he saw being his sister slamming frying pans together.

"GET UP WHORES BIG DAY AHEAD OF US." She yelled in-between slams. Newt groaned and sat up, paper sticking to the cheek that had been pressed to the floor. Thomas fell off the bed onto him, flattening him as Minho tripped over Brenda's entire body, Teresa screeching at the loud noise.

"OW!"

"WHOS DEAD?!"

"FUCK TOMMY YOU JUST KNEED ME IN THE CROTCH!"

"MINHO THAT HURT!"

"SHIT SORRY!"

Sonya watched the five scramble over each other, Minho and Brenda ending up on a pile on the floor with Teresa hanging off the bed by her shoelace, Thomas and Newt's heads appearing from where they were trying their best to untangle themselves behind the bed.

"Frying pans?! Really?" Newt snapped groggily, rubbing the back of his palms against his eyelids.

"Sorry, you guys were all out cold." she put the pans down sheepishly. "Today's a big day."

"Why?" Thomas blinked.

"We're meeting with that guy. That producer? You know, the one Brenda knows?" she crossed her arms over her chest.

"Oh yeah. Jorge." Brenda shoved Minho off of her, sitting up.

"Get up. Look presentable. And like we've actually been out of the house in the last seventy-two hours." Sonya said firmly, marching off.

"She's an annoyingly good manager." Teresa grumbled, getting up and unhooking her shoe from the bed post.

"Uh huh. Maybe it could be more than a temporary thing." Minho shrugged. Newt paused. He didn't know how to feel about that. Of course, at the end off the day, it was her choice, but he'd worked so hard to get her a reliable education, and made sure she'd worked hard enough to get good qualifications. He wasn't sure if he wanted her to throw that all away just to be a manager of their little band. There was no guarantee it was anything more than a temporary internet craze, and if Sonya threw away all of her opportunities. Well, Newt would consider getting the crowbar back out.

"Hm." Newt hummed in acknowledgment, turning toward his wardrobe. He pulled off his shirt and grabbed another one, having apparently given up on hygiene a few days ago just like everyone else. But, they had promised, that once they'd met with this producer they would go home, and at least have a shower.

"Newt," Teresa scoffed, murmuring close into his ear. He turned slightly and blinked at her, "I think you should probably give us a little warning if you're gonna take your shirt off. That, or maybe we should buy Tom an inhaler." She laughed, Newt turning on his heel to look at Thomas, who was still sat on the floor and clutching his heart like he was in actual pain.

"God dammit Newt, stop being fucking beautiful!" He glowered at the blond, who just scoffed and threw a t-shirt at him.

"Dork." Thomas stood up, crossing the room and wrapping one arm around his waist from behind. The other hand sneaked around the back, before Newt caught his wrist and pulled it into view in the mirror on the wardrobe door. Thomas's hand was clutching the two-dollar bill, and he was wearing a pout on his face when he'd realised he'd been caught. Despite the lack of interaction the two had had the past week, they'd kept up the game of sneaking the two-dollars into each others back pockets, somehow.

"Sneaky." Newt laughed softly, turning to look at Thomas properly. The drummer was still pouting, shoving the note back into his own pocket.

"Well, I was more thinking I could just get away with touching your ass but getting that in would just be a bonus." the brunette shrugged.

"Yeah, don't think the conversion of Thomas into a nun is going too well at the moment." Brenda scoffed.

"You don't say."

-

Brenda rapped on the door of the studio, it quickly being opened by a man. He had an older face, but one that was laced with intelligence and passion. His hair was pale and thin, eyes dark and twinkling. His darker skin was freckled with moles, and he cracked into a used grin as soon as he saw Brenda. The two embraced, before he pulled back, hands never leaving her shoulders.

"God, my little apprentice has gone and grown up." he grinned proudly, before glancing at the entourage behind her. 

"You think you can help us Jorge?" the singer asked, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Well, we'll have to see. Come in, let me see some of these songs of yours."

-

Half an hour later, the group found themselves scattered around a studio room, watching as Jorge nodded to himself.

"Well, I'm impressed." he leant back in his chair.

"You like them?" Minho asked, a hint of nervousness lacing his tone.

"I do." Jorge nodded. "I'm sure I could be your producer." he hummed, more to himself than anyone else.

"Well, what are the conditions?" Sonya asked, crossing her arms over he chest. Jorge grabbed a stapled wad of paper, passing it to Teresa. She read it and passed it on, seeming content with what came out of it. Eventually it got to Newt, and he skimmed through it. The usual things that were in a contract: cut, credit, licence. He found no loopholes in it, and he read the small print twice. Eventually he passed it on to Minho, who hummed in agreement eventually.

When the terms and conditions got back to Jorge, he raised his eyebrows at the group.

"Are you all happy with this?" Newt glanced around at his friends, who were all glancing back and shrugging.

"I am." Brenda nodded. "I trust him. And everyones he's produced has turned out fairly successful. I think we go for it."

"I'm in." Minho nodded.

"Yep." Newt murmured.

"Sure." Teresa hummed.

"Ok. Manager?" Thomas glanced toward Sonya, who had her lips pursed.

"Let's do it." she shrugged after a while.

"Awesome. I'm glad to be able to help you kids." Jorge smiled, passing the contract and a pen around the group. It got to Newt, and he mirrored his sister, pursing his lips. This all seemed to good to be true. But Brenda trusted this Jorge guy. And he trusted Brenda.

He signed his name.


	24. Twenty-four

The next month was a complete blur for Newt. He revised, rehearsed their new songs, helped Sonya with the band management when he could, forced her off the laptop to revise and sleep, readied for his finals, and snuck moments with Thomas in when they had the chance.

But here he was. All seven of them piled around a laptop, watching Jorge's finger hover over the post button. About a week ago, they'd recorded the first song Brenda had written, and it was now about to be posted on Youtube, a notification about it's release sent to every social media the group had, along with a release on ITunes, Spotify, and other music apps. 

Newt's heart was hammering out of his chest, and he began to wonder wether this was really what he wanted. He liked art. As in, sitting at a canvas and painting. Playing an instrument had always been a hobby for him, and that was it. He'd never considered it to be a career option, or anything involved in music now that he thought about it. Was this what he wanted? No. Don't be stupid Newt, don't overthink it. It was just one single. It couldn't lead to anything. Right?

Too late.

Jorge hit post.

And everything blew up.

-

The views and comments boomed, the band once again going viral. It had all been just too much for the bassist, so he mostly kept off of social media and focused on his schooling. The first incident, was about a week after they released the first song. Newt had been wandering down the street with Minho, chatting, for once, about something that wasn't the band. Minho had gotten to the third Hunger Games book, and he was mad.

"I can't believe after all that Katniss did for her, Prim goes and fucking d-"

"Min'" Newt smacked his chest lightly. "Look over there." he nodded toward the other side of the street. There was a small gaggle of young people, a few men and women watching them, and filming on their phones. They were about their age, maybe a little older, and Newt immediately felt uncomfortable. Why were they filming them? That probably broke some rights he had, right?

"Can I help you?" Minho smiled across at them.

"Yeah man," one of the guys spoke up, pushing himself off of the wall and crossing the street, friends in tow. "You're in that band aren't you? The Gladers?" He crossed his arms over his chest.

"Yeah." The asian responded curtly. 

"Cool, cool. You mind if we get a picture?" He asked.

"No, no not at all." The guitarist shrugged. "But I'm gonna have to kindly ask you to stop filming." he smiled. "You know how it gets, permission is important and stuff." he responded calm and casually, shoving his hands in his pockets.

"Oh, coure." the guy waved his hand behind him, as cameras were lowered.

"I gotta say, you guys are really something special." one of the girls smiled, eyeing Minho curiously.

"Thanks." Newt responded, feeling kind of bad for not saying anything.

"How old are you guys anyway?" Another guy asked.

"We're seventeen." Minho answered.

"Oh, cool, cool. Eighteen." the first guy motioned toward his friends. "So, where ya'll headed?"

"Back to school. We had a free period." Newt shrugged, glancing down at his coffee.

"Oh, yeah man I get you. Mind if we tag along, get to know you a bit?" One of the girls grinned, already linking arms with Minho, who glanced at Newt. He opened his mouth, and the blond had to stop him. These people were trouble, he could smell it from a mile away. And he knew enough about people to avoid to know what they were doing. They wanted to find out what school the two went too. Well, not if Newt had anything to do about it.

"We would, totally, but we're picking up my sister, and she has really bad social anxiety you see. Struggles really badly around groups of people she doesn't know. You know how these things go, family comes first." he shrugged. The first guy seemed annoyed for a second, before cooling.

"Oh of course dude. I get it. Well, how about a picture and then we'll leave you folks be." So, they took a picture and began to saunter away, Newt grabbing his friends elbow and pulling him into a tight back alley as soon as they rounded the corner.

"Newt what are you-" Minho hissed, only to be cut off by a hand being clamped over his mouth. Newt waited, watching. Two minutes later, he watched the group saunter by, casually following the direction in which the two had taken. He kept his hand on the asians mouth for another minute, before he took it away and stepped out from the alley.

"How did you know?" The guitarist asked.

"I carry a swiss army knife with me everywhere, I know about these things." he scoffed softly.

"This better not become a regular thing. I don't wanna be harassed." Minho pursed his lips in thought, taking a sip from his coffee.

"Maybe we should ask Jorge about it. That seems like the kind of thing he'd know about, right?" Newt shrugged, fiddling with his fingers.

"Yeah. Maybe." he shrugged, beginning to walk. Newt tripped over his own feet and managed to fall into step. "Nice thinking with the social anxiety thing though."

"Thanks. I use that one a lot."

"When?"

"When I don't wanna be near someone." he shrugged.

"Hang on, didn't you tell me your sister had social anxiety when we met?"

"I don't know what you're talking about."


	25. Twenty-five

It was March. Newt's finals were in three months. Yet here he was, sat in a music studio, about to release an _album_ , talking about _touring_ with people he'd met the same school year.

"After our finals, we take a gap and explore the world." Minho was pacing between the chairs. "Doesn't that sounds great?" He waved his arms around frantically. 

"Yeah, it sounds awesome." Brenda nodded, grinning slightly to herself at the thought.

"Ok, well you kids might want to hold your horses there." Jorge chuckled from the doorway. "You'll need enough money for that. And your first tour, will probably just have to be around the US." he shrugged, sipping a coffee.

"Well, we can work with that." Thomas shrugged. Newt was stuck. What seemed like a lifetime ago, but what was only back in January when the group had blown up, touring and the problems that came with it were hypothetical. But now they were very real, and very scary. He met Teresa's eye, and was met by what he could only describe as a reflection. He nodded toward the door, a motion she was clearly very grateful for. 

"Be right back." he murmured, crossing the room, out of the door and into the darkened street with the keyboardist hot on his heels. He sighed and slumped onto the curb, Teresa sitting down next to him.

"Is it Sonya?" She asked.

"Yeah." he sighed, picking at his nails. "I don't want her to become distracted from her education, because she has to do all the chores and look after my dad." he mumbled. She nodded softly.

"My sister, Rachel, she comes to me if she needs anything. She confides in me, and my parents are constantly arguing. I don't know if I can leave her alone to deal with that." she scratched the back of her neck with a frustrated sigh. Newt squeezed her hand.

"What if we worked something out? How old is Rachel?" He asked softly, watching the stars disappear behind the clouds.

"Fifteen."

"Hang on, hang on, does Rachel have a friend called Aris?" he asked, glancing toward her as she furrowed her brow.

"Yeah, her best friend. Why?"

"My sister knows her. She's got her friends round all the time: Harriet, Aris and Rachel." he explained. "Maybe we could work something out with them? Like, they could live with their friends." he shrugged helplessly.

"For a year? No parent is that hospitable. And what about your dad? Would he be ok on his own?" She asked.

"Probably not." he sighed.

"Do you want to go?" She asked softly after a pause.

"Why wouldn't I? Get to see beautiful things with my best friends. It'd just be like a holiday. But we get paid." he shrugged. "Do you?"

"Of course." she put her hands under her chin and perched them on her knees. "It'd be beautiful."

"Well..what if we brought our families with us?" He asked, furrowing his brow in thought.

"Newt, I don't know if we can afford that. That's at least.." she quickly did the math, "seventeen people!"

"We just need a big enough tour bus. Think about it Teresa. We find a tour bus that's big enough for the all of us, or two smaller ones, we're set." he shrugged.

"It's mad. You know it is. I don't want to be insensitive, but is it really a good idea to bring your dad with us?" she asked softly. Newt pursed his lips in thought as he played over the possible situations in his head.

"Yes. Yes, this is exactly what he needs," he felt a smile dawning on his face, "this could be perfect."

"But what about Sonya's schooling?" She challenged, trying to iron out the plot holes in his plan.

"Well, she's not going to have to do any chores, and we'll be on the road for hours, she can do it then." he shrugged. "Of course, we'll have to ask them about this first." he assured her.

-

"Hell yeah I'm in." Sonya shrugged, arms crossed over her chest.

"You won't miss your friends?" He challenged.

"I'll have Rachel, and you guys. Maybe Harriet and Aris can join us for a week or something in Spring Break!" She was already planning in her head.

"Ok,ok, woah. Easy tiger," he put his hands out. "I don't want an answer now. I want it tomorrow. I need you to really think about this." He said. Sonya groaned, pouting and slumping back into the dining chair.

"Fine."

"Now finish your dinner, and get started on your revision. I'm gonna go ask Dad what he thinks." Newt excused himself from the table, only to see Sonya salute with a scoff.

"Yes sir." He rolled his eyes and smacked her over the head, making his way up the stairs with his fathers plate of food. He knocked on the door, and opened it when a grunt of conformation came from inside. His fathers room was always dark, no lights on, and curtains constantly closed. The only thing that illuminated the incompetent man was the flicker of light from the TV.

"Hey Dad." Newt smiled best he could, closing the door be hind him, being swallowed by the darkness.

"Newt," he nodded toward his son. He clearly hadn't had his pills yet, which were balanced on his plate, meaning Newt could actually have a logical conversation with him. 

"Dad, how would you feel about doing something new?" He asked, setting the plate down on the cabinet and throwing open the curtains, which caused a whine from his dad as he shielded his eyes.

"What do you mean by something new?" He asked from the bed. His son sat down in a chair opposite him and leant forward.

"You know about my band?" His father nodded. "Well, we're planning on going on tour. Taking a gap year and playing around the country." the mans eyes widened slightly. "I know, big deal. I was wondering, if maybe you wanted to come with us. Sonya's planning on coming and doing her schooling on the road. And you'd get to meet my friends properly, and meet their families. And you could see the landscapes and stuff. I just thought, it would be a kind of therapy." he shrugged. His father frowned at him, turning over the options in his head.

"What about you? Is this what you want to do, or are you following the crowd?" He asked. Newt hummed.

"No, I think I'd like to go. It's a once in a lifetime opportunity." he shrugged.

"And you want me there? Won't it ruin your fun?" 

"No, I want you to be there." he assured his elder.

'Well, alright. Why not? I've always wanted to travel." his father shrugged. Newt's face lit up.

"Really?!"

"On one condition," his father warned. Newt nodded, trying to get him to continue, "you have to introduce me to your boyfriend." Newt stopped. he hadn't even told his father he was gay, let alone that he had a boyfriend.

"H-how, how d-did you know?" He stuttered out.

"I heard Sonya telling her friends over the phone," he waved it off, 'why didn't you tell me?"

"I-I uh, I don't know. Guess-guess it slipped my mind." he shrugged helplessly.

"Well, I want to meet him. Got to make sure he's good enough for someone as great as my Newt." he grinned as his son brought his dinner toward him. Newt scoffed and lightly punched his arm.

'Shut up Dad."

Maybe things wouldn't be so bad after all.


	26. Twenty-six

Newt ran a hand through his hair, going over his revision for what felt like the fiftieth time. He was sat at his desk, only illuminated by the lamp in the midst of the night. He squeezed his eyes shut and rolled his shoulders back, trying to clear his head. That plan was thrown out of the window when he heard a soft sniffle behind him. The bassist whipped around in his chair, wide eyed. 

Thomas had his revision scattered on the floor, with his head in his hands and knees drawn close to his chest.

"Tommy?" the blond whispered. He jumped off of his chair and crouched down next to his boyfriend, placing a hesitant hand on his shoulder. "Are you alright?" He murmured. Thomas let out a soft sigh as he tried to recollect himself.

"I'm alright Newt, go back to your revision," he shot the blond the best smile he could, but Newt wasn't having it. 

"Not a chance." He pursed his lips, and sat next to the brunette, indicating that he was there to stay. "Do you want to talk about it?" He asked softly, placing a hand on Thomas's knee.

"It's nothing major. Just stressed I suppose. But everyone is, I shouldn't be acting like this. I'm just being over sensitive." he sighed weakly, picking up Newt's hand from his knee and gently fiddling with his fingers, just like he did when he was trying to figure out what instrument the bassist played.

"Tommy, son't be silly," he said fondly. "You're right, we're all under a lot os stress. And everyone reacts differently, and thats ok. You react by crying, and that's fine. Everyone needs to release their emotions some how, it's human. And it certainly doesn't make you over sensitive. Don't berate yourself for something that's normal." he explained.

"I'm not supposed to be crying. It makes me weak." the brunette scolded himself quietly.

"No. No it doesn't. Crying doesn't mean you're weak, if anything, it makes you stronger. It takes a strong person to cry around others, because it means your open to being vulnerable around some people. And you know, thats good. It's actually quite an admirable trait to have." he hummed, as Thomas glanced toward him.

"You think that?" He whispered. Newt gently cupped the brunettes cheek, tenderly wiping away the tear that was rolling down it.

"Yes, I do." he squeezed Thomas's hand. The drummer sighed softly, and put his head on his boyfriends shoulder.

"Well then..why do you always hold it together? If anyone should be breaking right now, it's you." he murmured. Newt huffed slightly, shrugging lightly against Thomas's temple.

"It's not a good thing. I shouldn't really bottle things up, but I do. No one has time to listen to my problems, and I don't have time to tell anyone. I mean, if I went to a doctors they'd probably tell me I was all kinds of sick in the head, but, ya know." He shrugged lightly.

"Well," Thomas lifted his head from the blonds shoulder to glance at him again. "When we go on tour, we're gonna be spending hours on a bus together, so they'll be plenty of time to tell me about your all kinds of sick in the head." he smiled softly, the blond just scoffing and nodding fondly and gratefully. "But for now," Thomas stood up and offered the boy a hand, "Bed?" Newt took his hand and let himself be pulled toward the bed, only weakly protesting with a whine.

"Revisionnnn." he dragged the word out.

"Basic bodily functionnnsss." Thomas lay down, pulling Newt down with him. "Seeing as you don't seem to ever do any. Do you just live off of caffeine?"

"And the occasional rush of adrenaline, yep." the blond murmured, circling Thomas's stomach as he lodged his head in the crook of his neck. The brunette wrapped one hand around Newt's waist, the other coming to rest upon Newt's that was lain below his chest.

"Adrenaline? Where you getting that from?" Thomas asked softly, rubbing circles into the skin of Newt's side with his thumb where the bassists shirt had ridden up. His hands were warm, and definitely made Newt feel ready for sleep.

"Being with you. Duh." He shrugged, hearing the soft vibrations of Thomas chuckling as he fell into a light sleep.

-

_"Newt, this is crazy. These people, they're just going to hurt us, I really don't think we can convince them that we don't have the money, they're not reasonable." she pleaded, glancing around at the roof they were waiting on._

_"Son', it'll be ok. I promise. I won't let them hurt you." he squeezed his sisters hand, standing slightly in front of her. The door to the roof slammed open, and three men, hidden amongst their hoodies emerged. They were in their early twenties, and a lot more than scrawny little fifteen year old Newt could take on. They stopped a few feet in front of the two blonds._

_He felt nothing but fear._

_"Well, do you have it?" The grey-hoodied man spoke._

_"We don't have what you're looking for. We've told you this hundreds of times. She doesn't have the money." Newt said firmly, although his heart was beating out of his chest._

_"Well then she shouldn't have asked for the meth." the red-balaclava man growled._

_"I've also told you, it wasn't her. She's thirteen, you've got the wrong Sonya." He squeezed his fists at his sides._

_"How many blond haired, British, short Sonya's are there in this city? Wrong one? Fat chance." the black-hoddied man scoffed._

_"I didn't ask for your bloody meth!" Sonya growled from behind her brother. "And we don't have the money to pay you." she tacked on, sounding slightly nervous. The grey-hoodied man frowned, stepping forward._

_"Well, if you're not gonna give it to us the easy way, we'll just have to get it out the hard way." he growled, and before Newt could react he felt an impact at the side of his head. The blond groaned and stumbled, seeing stars for a moment. He blinked them away and glanced up from where he'd fallen, just to see the man shove Sonya. She fell back with a force, foot slipping on the edge of the old building._

_"SONYA!" He leapt toward her sister, grabbing onto her clammy hand and being grazed along the building toward the edge. He saw the grey-hoddied man stop his friends, clearly entertained by the situation playing out in front of them._

_"Let the kids have their fun." he laughed. Newt turned his attention to his sister, who was gripping to her brother as tears rolled down her face._

_"Newt-N-Newt please, please don't let me go!" She sobbed, eyes glued to the floor._

_"Hold on Son', it's alright, it's ok I've got you, I won't let you go." he said as calm and firmly as he could, trying his best to gain the strength to pull up the girl. He groaned with the effort, veins in his arms straining, as he tugged her up, ending with her on his stomach._

_"Alright, fun's over." the grey-hoodied man nodded to his friends. Red-Balaclava man ripped the blond away from his sister with ease, shoving him toward the large bin as he and black-hoodied man rounded on Sonya, shoving her once again toward the edge of building. His head hit the back of the bin with a crack, and all he could hear was the ringing in his ears. He slumped, out of breath and dazed._

_Suddenly, he became acutely aware of a sharp metal object to his left, the cold bringing him back to his senses. Glancing at it, his eyes widened and he scraped the crow bar off of the ground, fist clenching around it._

_The world had screwed Newt over. It had taken everything from him. His mother, his father, his future and his childhood. It would not take Sonya. It would have to go through him first._

_He stalked grey-hoodied man, striking when he waved his hand around carelessly, like Sonya's life was the most insignificant thing ever. Newt hooked the end of the steel rod around his hand, jerking it back sharply. The man cried out in pain as the blond kept dragging his hand backward, cracking his whole arm at an angle arms were definitely not supposed to be at. He cracked it behind his back as the man screamed and squirmed, knees buckling with the pain as the blond heard a sharp split up the length of the limb._

_He felt nothing but fury._

_The other men whipped around, red balaclava man murmuring something to his friend about keeping a hold of Sonya, still teetering on the edge. Newt clenched his fist around the bar as the man ran at him, yelling. Newt swung the crowbar round like a bat, cracking balaclava man over the face with a loud crack. The man toppled downward, only to be pulled back by the chin as his head was slammed into a nearby air vent. Blood trickled down the mans face as he sunk to the ground, red warmth coating the fiftteen-year olds hand._

_He felt nothing but wrath._

_He rounded on the third man, seeing red like an angered bull._

_"Don't take another step kid. Or I'll push her." black-hoodied man warned, gripping Sonya's shoulders like a life line. Newt nodded, words failing him. "Drop the fucking crow bar." he ordered. The metal bar was dropped to the ground with a clang, the blonds eyes never leaving that of his sisters attacker. "Alright now y-" Newt charged at him, knocking the wind out of him before he even had time to realise what was happening. Newt scrambled on top of the man, grabbing him by the scruff off his neck and slamming his fist into the guys nose. Sonya skittered back from the edge, hand clamped over her mouth in horror._

_This wasn't fair. She was thirteen. She should be out with her friends at the park, laughing and riding her bikes. Not almost being thrown off a building and watching her caring older brother beat three men to a pulp with a crowbar._

_Newt got in three more punches before the man shoved up against him, the two beginning to roll as they scrambled for assertion. Suddenly, Newt felt a ledge beneath his stomach, and his breath caught._

_"Newt! No!" Sonya screamed. The blond made a mad dash for the ledge, but it was too late._

_The air around him felt quiet. Everything was quiet. He wasn't screaming, wasn't flailing. Somewhere he saw the red and blue flash of police in the background. Good. They'd take care of Sonya. He saw floor after floor fly past him, but Newt kept his eyes on the sky. Why look down? Sonya was up there._

_He felt nothing but contentedness._

_"NEWT!" He heard a scream_.

Newt jolted awake when he hit the floor, the first thing he acknowledged being Sonya's hands on his shoulders, and Thomas's hand in his hair. He gasped for breath, sucking in deep breaths as he searched Sonya's face for sings of safety. The girl was two years older, radiating health and warmth.

"Hey, it's ok Newt. It's just a dream." Thomas ran a soothing hand through his clammy hair. Newt lifted his hands up, the first thing he noticed was that they were clean. No blood. He cupped his sisters cheeks with them, chest still rising and falling like a madman.

"Newt?" She asked softly, squeezing his shoulders.

"Do you still want to come on tour?" He asked hoarsely.

"Of course. Why?" She queried.

"Because I want you to see the world. I want you to see how beautiful it is. I want you to be able to pretend you're a child again. Just for once." he whispered croakily. Sonya put her hands on her brothers, running her thumbs over his knuckles.

"Only if you do too."


	27. Twenty-seven

Thomas kicked the front door of Newt's house closed, keeping his arms tightly wrapped around his boyfriends waist.

"Tommyy this is such a dumb idea." Newt whined, weakly struggling against Thomas's advances.

"Why? Sonya's out, and you said yourself, your dads at his therapy session." he murmured against the blonds collarbone, blindly making his way toward the stairs. Newt was forced backward as he rolled his eyes.

"Yeah, but he'll be back." he murmured. Thomas hummed and glanced at his watch.

"In an hour." he brought his head up, pecking the blond on the lips. "Lighten up a little babes, we're going on tour for six months tomorrow. I'm not gonna get a single moment alone with you for who knows how long." he groaned exasperatedly, running his hands up to the bassists shoulders and squeezing softly. "Just relax." he smiled, bringing up one hand to the blonds cheek, which Newt turned his head slightly toward and kissed lightly with a sigh. He chewed on his lip for a moment, before he groaned and caved. 

"You have an hour." a fond smile tugged at the corner of his lips, rolling his eyes. The drummer kissed his nose quickly, before running his lips back down to the skin of Newt's neck and his hands back down to his hips. He pushed forward, the blonds back hitting the banister of the stairs as he hummed in approval, wrapping his arms around his boyfriends neck.

"So you must be Thomas." Newt practically choked on surprise as Thomas bolted away from him at the speed of light, whipping around, only to find himself almost nose to nose with Newt's dad.

"Dad!" Newt squeaked. "I-I-uh-I wasn't expecting you home." he stuttered, face turning the shade of a tomato.

"No, clearly not." His father said, clearly amused.

"Uh-I'm Thomas." Thomas tried, awkwardly holding out his hand. His father glanced at it, looking up, before cracking into a grin and shaking his hand firmly.

"Well, it's nice to meet you."

"Uh huh." was all Thomas cold manage, dumbfounded. 

"You're not mad?" The blond asked, pushing himself up next to Thomas.

"Mad? About what?" His elder asked, frowning slightly.

"Uh-I dunno. _That_." he motioned back toward the staircase he'd been pressed against moments prior. His father scoffed, patting Newt on the shoulder.

"Oh god no. Course not. Teens will be teens. I remember doing the same thing with your mother." he waved him off. The blond scrunched his nose up in disgust.

"Dad, ew." he grimaced. "Why are you here anyway?" the man took a step back, shrugging.

"I skipped therapy today. To pack, you see. Sorry," he chuckled. "I should've given you some warning, clearly." he smacked Thomas's shoulder lightly, grinning. "Getting in the way of Thomas's advances." he laughed. Thomas just laughed along awkwardly, glancing at Newt with what he could only describe as a _'what the fuck is going on?'_ look. Newt just shrugged as his father turned his back on them and headed toward the kitchen. "You gonna have some dinner first?" He asked, setting out three plates on the table, in a way that left no room for argument.

"Sure." the bassist blinked.

"Good. I'm excited to learn a bit more about you Thomas." his father smiled, grabbing some macaroni from a pot and scooping it onto the three plates.

"Dad, that's a lot of macaroni. Did you know we were coming?" He asked, helping grab drinks and cutlery.

"Oh no, I just had a hunch. Seems logical you'd come here." he put the pot in the sink, something Newt would have to wash before leaving tomorrow. "Don't worry, I won't take up too much of your last night alone together. I'm just pleased to be finally meeting you Thomas." he clamped a hand down on the brunettes shoulder as they took their seats at the table.

"Oh, uh, thank you." Thomas offered, smiling with uncertainty.

"So," his father started, picking up his fork. "How did you two meet?" He asked. Newt cleared his throat.

"Minho introduced us. And then I got roped into coming to their band practice." he retold, picking at his food.

"I see. And, how did you two get together?" He pushed. Newt glanced toward Thomas, who took it in his stride, like everything else.

"It was after we lost the competition. We were talking in my room, and I asked if I could guess about his crushes. Went out on a limb, and kissed him." he shrugged. His father looked thoughtful for a moment.

"You know, you're a lot different to how I thought you'd be." he offered. The two teenagers looked at him quizzically, so he elaborated. "Well, you see, a few months ago I heard Sonya and Newt talking in her room, about a crush Newt had. He said he'd be added onto the long list of people who liked you, and well I suppose I just took you to be one of those douchy player type of guys, who doesn't really have any regard for others." he explained.

Newt was taken a back. How much did his father actually listen? Did he actually care? Did he really care about Newt's little crushes, enough to remember little details he said? The thought that his father actually listened, actually cared was enough to make him bite his lip to stop himself from smiling like an idiot.

"Never." Thomas shook his head.

"No. I gathered from the way you talked to Newt back there." his father shrugged.

"What do you mean?" The drummer asked, cocking his head to the side slightly.

"Well, anyone who just wanted sex wouldn't have cared about Newt relaxing and lightning up. Anyone who just wanted sex wouldn't look at him like that." he laughed lightly as Thomas's cheeks coloured, glancing toward his boyfriend. "I've never seen anyone look at Newt like that." His father aired a smile. "I mean, it's about time if you ask me." he scoffed.

Newt rolled his eyes fondly down at his food. He had no idea why he was even worried about the two meeting in the first place.


	28. Twenty-eight

Newt grabbed Thomas's hand, letting himself be tugged into the bus as the door slid shut behind him. In the first bus was: Newt, Thomas, Minho, Brenda, Teresa, Chuck, Rachel and Sonya, the parents being crammed into the second bus. It wasn't how Newt had imagined.

The bus was huge for a start. At the front, was the drivers seat, and a thin divider behind it. Embedded in the wall was a ladder, leading to a small bed above the drivers compartment, reaching to the ceiling of what was the height of a double decker. Then, there was a thin corridor with thin walls either side of it, cornering off two more bedrooms, each tiny, with a cabinet and bunk beds. When the small corridor opened out, it opened into a small couch that hit the back of the wall, which could only be described as another bed, where two other people would be sleeping, but was used by everyone else to sit on during the day. Next to it there was a mini fridge and a cabinet to keep dry foods, and opposite that, was another divider, with a tiny toilet, shower and sink inside. It was cramped, and there was one shower for eight people. But Newt couldn't be happier.

"Who's ready for tour?!" Brenda whooped from the sofa-bed which she'd already pulled out. A chorus of cheers came back as they all sat themselves down on the bed.

"Ok, who get's what bed?" Sonya addressed the situation at hand, seeing as she was seemingly the manager.

"I get double with Newt" Thomas immediately bagsied. Newt rolled his eyes and glanced toward the double above the drivers compartment, nodding slowly in agreement. One of them would fall off, he could already see it happening. Sonya hummed.

"Alright. Who wants to bunk?" She asked. They glanced round at each other.

"Bren'?" Teresa asked. The singer nodded, grinning.

"Sure."

"Chuck, wanna bunk with me?" Minho addressed the only other guy. After all, it would be a little weird if Sonya or Rachel bunked with Chuck, because: One. If it was Rachel, she didn't know Chuck, and two. Either way, Minho ended up in bed with a fifteen year old girl.

"Sure!" Chuck's face practically lit up, as the grinned in excitement.

"And then, Rachel, you and me in the sofa-bed? Sound good?" Sonya asked her friend. Rachel glanced up, smiling with a soft nod. Rachel had straight, lighter hair than her sister, and if it weren't for the piercing eyes and intelligence, Newt wouldn't have suspected the two were related. "Awesome!" Sonya clapped her hands together excitably. "What do we do now?" She asked, shoulders drooping.

"Let's see if theres anything good on TV." Minho suggested, grabbing the remote and switching on the small TV hung up on the opposite wall. The group sunk into the bed, small conversations going on, the TV eventually just becoming background noise.

"How do you think Dad's doing?" Sonya whispered to her brother, who hummed softly.

"I dunno. I'm sure he's alright. I don't think I remember the last time he met another adult." he laughed softly. "Do you want to call him?" he offered. The girl waved him off.

"No, no, we'll just ask him when we get to the concert." she changed the subject with a soft smirk. "Thomas told me what happened last night." She laughed. Newt groaned.

"God, it was bad." he rubbed his face with the back of his hand.

"The real question is, did Thomas end up getting what he wanted?" She shrugged carelessly. Her brother rolled her eyes and smacked her with the notebook he was using to doodle in.

"Go on, be gone with you! Dirty little bugger!" She shrieked and surrendered, backing off with a laugh.

-

Three hours later, Newt jumped off the buss, cursing his leg as it cramped up in pain. Immediately spotting his father, he wandered toward him.

"Hey Dad. How's it going?" He asked with a smile. His father seemed almost joyous, with a new healthy glow to his skin.

"Great. Thomas's parents are really nice people." he shrugged with a soft smile. "Although I might have said something I wasn't supposed to." he murmured.

"What do you m-"

"THOMAS STEPHEN GREENE!" Mary swung her handbag at her son, hitting him square in the chest. He wheezed out a groan, Vince glancing around at all the people staring at them. "WHY DIDN'T YOU TELL ME YOU WERE GOING OUT WITH NEWT?!" She glowered at him.

"Uh..slipped my mind?" He guessed, earning another handbag smack. She huffed, before turning to Newt with a large smile.

"Hello Newt, sweetheart. Welcome to the family! I'm so glad my sons found someone who's a good influence on him!" She smiled. Vince just shot him an apologetic smile. "And your accent is very adorable!" She grinned.

"Mom stop crushing on my boyfriend." Thomas grumbled, straightening.

"I'm not!" Mary insisted. "I just like British accents," she said as Vince led her away awkwardly. "Vince why don't you have a British accent?" He heard her say. Newt scoffed softly. Thomas groaned again, scratching the back of his neck sheepishly.

"Sorry about her," Newt rolled his eyes and intertwined their fingers, beginning to trot after the group. His father and Thomas followed.

"Don't be dumb. I think your mums great." he laughed softly, and if there was a hint of sadness in his voice, he didn't notice. But Thomas did. The brunette took their interlocked hands and gently brushed Newt's knuckles with his lips, before cracking a joke.

"You won't say that when she's swinging that bag at you. I'm fairly certain she carries dumbbells around in them."

-

"You're kidding right?"  Teresa asked. The group was stood on stage, staring out at the seats, that would be occupied in a few hours. There were so many seats, some Newt couldn't even see. There had to be at least a thousand.

"Nope, it's all yours hermano." Jorge clapped her on the shoulder. Newt felt his palms getting sweaty, and he swallowed down his nerves. Thomas gave his clammy hand a squeeze, which was returned by a slightly shaky one.

"And, we-we sold out?" Minho asked, bewildered.

"Yup." Sonya nodded from her clipboard.

"This is mad. We can't do this. There'll be so many people." Newt murmured. It was his turn to get a hand to the shoulder. Jorge squeezed.

"Look at it this way Salamander." Newt wasn't quite sure why Jorge had started calling him that, but most of the time he didn't mind. "If you can do this, you can do anything. You just need to find your anchor, and stick with it. If it works for you, just pretend they're not even there." he offered. The bassist grumbled with acknowledgement, scuffing his shoe slightly.

"This'll be ok. I mean, what can go wrong, right?" Brenda asked, turning to the group to shrug.

Newt could think of hundred of things that could go wrong. But they didn't matter. He needed to focus on his anchor.

His family.

 


	29. Twenty-nine

Newt splashed some water on his face, letting out a shaky breath as he glanced at himself in the mirror. There were hundreds of people out there, waiting. He couldn't do it. It was too much, and he was too scared. Squeezing his eyes shut, he gripped the sink tightly and tried to slow his racing heart.

"Newt where are you? We have to go on soon!" He heard someone call from outside the door. The blond opened his mouth to respond, but no words came out. Instead, he let out a soft sob and curled up in on himself, burying his face in his hands. 

What was he doing here? How did he get here? Newt didn't take risks, he never had, this was mad! He'd met these people less than a year ago! What if he fell out with them? What if he got trapped in this band? What if he and Thomas broke up? And he had to stay around him? Was this even something he'd wanted to do? He was an art student for gods sake! And sure, he had passed his finals, easily, but this wasn't where he'd intended to end up! He was going to go into design! He wasn't even in the same bloody state that he had been that morning! He'd packed up with his entire family to go explore the country! Who does that?!

"New-" Thomas found the boy crying in a ball on the tiled floor, breath not coming easily to him. "Newt!" The blond felt arms pulling him out of his ball, and then being wrapped around him.

"Can-Can-Cant-Be-Breathe." He gasped out, his lack of breath only making him panic more.

"Hey. Hey Newt look at me." Thomas's hands cupped both tear streaked cheeks, initiating eye contact. _That_ eye contact, that Newt could never find himself willing to break. 

"Wh-wh-why am I-h-h-here?" He hiccuped.

"Hey ok, sshh. it's alright. No more talking. Just listen." he said firmly, nothing but reassurance lacing his dark eyes. "You're having a panic attack. So focus on my breathing, and copy it." Newt couldn't. His lungs weren't working like they should be. Why weren't they working?! He weakly shook his head, gripping onto Thomas's wrists so tightly his knuckles went white. "No? Ok. Well then, lets do this." he shifted slightly, tenderly wiping away the bassists tears that just kept spilling. "Count for me Newt. Start on one, and go up." he offered. Newt didn't really realise where he was going with it, but he just nodded and took the biggest breath he could manage, which was more of a sharp intake of breath.

"O-o-one." he whispered. The drummer smiled encouragingly, pulling Newt closer to his chest. Gently he pried one of the blonds hands away from his wrists, placing it on his own chest so that Newt could feel the steady rise and fall, and hear the soft thumping of a steady heart. He then ran that hand to Newt's scalp. gently carding through the blonds wet hair. The boy sagged under the touch slightly, grip on Thomas's other wrist never once loosening.

"T-two." he stuttered.

"You're doing so well Newt." the brunette praised. He let out another soft sob, trying his best to focus on the hand running through his hair.

"T-thr-ee." he hiccuped out, thump of the steady heart under his fingertips allowing a little more air into his lungs.

"F-our." he whispered.

"Five." he let Thomas's wrist slip from his grasp as he curled up in on himself again. "I'm sorry." he breathed. 

"Don't be ridiculous Newt." Thomas pulled him closer, circling his waist with his now free hand. "I don't blame you. This is mad." he offered softly, paying more attention to the blond hair he was playing with.

"That's exactly the point." Newt sniffled and swallowed. "This is mad, for everyone. Of course I'm the one who has a major freak out." he mumbled to himself.

"Newt listen." The drummer gently tilted Newt's chin up, once again offering eye contact. "No one is going to be mad at you for freaking out about this. This is crazy, and you already have a little bit of a thing going when it comes to nerves. It's not your fault, it's not something you can control." he hummed softly. "But when you go out there, they are gonna _love_ you."

-

Newt hung the strap over his shoulder. It was dark on stage, and whilst he couldn't see any faces, Newt could see the silhouettes of almost every single person in there. And there was a lot. He swallowed and closed his eyes.

This wasn't any different to the competition. They were still people, who came because they liked music. He still had his anchor, and he'd still be thinking about his mother all the way through the two-hour show they were doing. There was one difference. There was just a few more people. That was ok, he could deal with that. He'd be fine.

The lights came up.

Newt didn't hear any of the cheers, any of the sounds when they kicked in to the first song. He didn't hear anything but his bass, trusting muscle memory and foot-tapping to keep in time with music that he _couldn't_ _hear._

But that didn't matter. None of it mattered. He knew what he did, he trusted his fingers. So, his mind wandered. He glanced around the room. Purple light was blinding him, so no one was distinguishable. But they were there. Hundreds of people, here, coming to see them play. Now that he was there, it wasn't that bad. They all seemed to be enjoying themselves, some of them were even on their feet. He wondered if he knew any of them. Were any of his old friends there? Any relatives? Anyone from Maze School? He didn't know.

He swallowed, and his ears popped. Sound came rushing back, and to his relief, he found that he was where he should've been.

Damn. They were good. They were so good. Passion flooded the room, anything and everything booming it. They were all playing from the pit of the stomach, where the fire had been lit. Teresa was quicker than before. Minho was more adventurous. Brenda had never looked happier. And Thomas was having the time of his life. It was good. It was still.

For a moment Newt forgot about everything he had to do. He forgot about having to make money. he forgot about having to buy his fathers pills. He forgot about the nightmares. He forgot about Sonya's fear of heights and tall buildings. He forgot about having to work out how much money they'd be able to put in their savings account that month. He forgot about ironing his suit. He forgot about seeing his mother so still in her casket. He forgot about seeing his father cry and throw things at walls. He forgot about Sonya trying her hardest to tell him that something was wrong, whilst being scared out of her and that they would find her. He forgot about having blood on his hands. He forgot about falling. He forgot about watching the other kids going to school as he tied an apron around his waist, praying that his father wouldn't find his saving jar and spend it all on booze when he was trying his hardest to save up for Sonya's therapy. He forgot about the scars and the shaking in his hands he got when he remembered things. He forgot about his paranoia and his nerves. Because none of it mattered.

He was here, with people he loved, doing something he loved. And when the world did still, for that moment, Newt couldn't have thought of a better place for it to still.


	30. Thirty

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry for the delay on this chapter, I low-key had a bit of a breakdown last night, which is when I usually write, so sorry about that lmao. But it does mean you get two chapters today so???

"How are you all doing tonight?!" Brenda asked with a grin into the audience, who erupted in cheers back. The girl seemed taken a back for a moment, glancing around at her bandmates for support. "Aw jeez, wasn't expecting that. Sorry for the nerves, it's our first show, and theres a lot of you." She laughed a little sheepishly, only to get more cheers back. "Uh..I'm Brenda." she pointed to herself. People screamed, much to the girls surprise.

"I'm Minho." The boy put his hand up, getting loud cheers back. He couldn't keep the grin off of his face.

"My name's Teresa." Loud cheers.

"I'm Thomas." Particularly loud screams.

"Newt." Newt got out, only to be met with loud cheers. He blinked in surprise. The others were pretty active on social media, and so they had _some_ idea about the popularity and traction the band was gaining, but Newt, Newt had no idea. He had social media, of course, who didn't, but he was never on it. He didn't have the time. He had no idea that people already knew their names, knew how old they were and their hobbies and how they sounded. He glanced toward Thomas, who gave him a wink and a smile. Apparently, a few people noticed and started to scream. Newt couldn't figure out why.

"So, uh, this is all really new to us, but we'd really like to thank you all for your support. Getting somewhere with our music has always been a dream of ours, but I don't think any of us," Brenda motioned around to her friends, "could ever dream of it getting _here._ " she waved her hands toward the audience, who, of course, cheered like mad.

"Yeah, you guys are seriously the best." Minho tacked on, earning nods from his friends.

"When I was writing this song," Brenda continued, "I was very tired." she laughed. "I'm fairly certain it was about three in the morning and I was living off of tea," she shrugged before turning to the blond, "but it was Newt's tea. Very good. But then again, British people you know?" She laughed, everyone easing up a bit. Even Newt grinned as the audience laughed, some screaming.

"Normally I'd have a go at you for stereotyping but he does make very good tea." Thomas added on.

"Preach sister, we got a tea god." Teresa laughed.

"Aw shucks guys, you're all so kind." Newt joined in, waving them off over-dramatically. The audience laughed, watching as the group got more comfortable. 

"Anyway, back to the point," Brenda laughed, "this song started off being about the craziness of all this happening and whatnot, and then kind of turned into a song about drinking tea with a friend at three in the morning, but you know, that's ok. Songs are wild, you just gotta let it flow." she scoffed. "So, this is." she paused, "what did I name this song again?" She turned to her friends.

"Brenda it's called caffeine." Minho laughed.

"Oh yeah!"

-

"That was amazing!" Sonya burst backstage, grinning from ear to ear.

"You think so?" Thomas asked, cracking his knuckles.

"Hell yeah hermano," Jorge smiled, coming into the room behind the girl, "you guys were naturals out there."

"You don't think we talked too much?" Brenda asked, swigging back some water.

"They loved it." Jorge waved her off. The parents burst in, going to their respective children and beginning to praise them endlessly. Newt glanced up as his father came toward him. He looked slightly worn, eye bags darker than they had been previously.

"Dad?" He asked worriedly, glancing up at his inherited dark eyes, only to find that they were watering. "Dad are you ok?" He mumbled. His father watched his face for a moment, before dragging him into a tight hug and cupping the back of his head against his shoulder. "Dad?" Newt tried again, surprised and confused.

"You are so much like your mother." he whispered. Newt's breath caught and he tensed, hand clenching around his fathers shoulder.

"D-Dad.."

"She would be so proud of you. I'm proud of you." he breathed into his sons ear. "She would have loved the music you're making." he pulled back slightly, Newt's eyes now brimming with tears, reflecting his fathers. "And I am so sorry. I'm sorry for what I've put you through, and all the sacrifices you've made for us. It's all my fault." he sniffed.

"Dad no, that's not true." he croaked out. 

"Your leg won't ever work properly again." he choked. "You missed so much education. Hell, don't pretend to me that when we go back to the buses you're not gonna stay up working out how much we have to pay in taxes and how much in saving we'll have this month." Newt felt a tear slip down his face. "I am so sorry. You should have been a kid. You should have been at school, but instead you were working and worrying that I was gonna spend all your savings that you had to hide from me, on booze, when all you wanted to do was get Son' therapy." he motioned toward the girl, who Newt turned to see was watching the two, also glassy-eyed. Her father opened out his other arm to her, and she ran to him, Newt wrapping his own arm around her also. She let out a soft sob, which only set off Newt more.

"Where did my little girl go?" The man asked. "Why did she have to grow up?" he kissed the top of her head, before taking a deep breath, trying to recollect himself. "Your mum, would have been so so proud of you both. You are both such wonderful, intelligent, incredible adults who are making her proud every day." Newt clung to his family, sniffing and squeezing his eyes shut. "I am so proud to call you both my children. And I am so sorry if you were ever not proud to call me your dad. Because I have been a shit one. A really shit one. But I'm going to be better. After this, I'm going to be better." he promise them, squeezing the two tight.

"I love you Dad." Sonya whispered.

"I love you too sweetheart." 

"I love you too Dad." Newt croaked.

"I love you too kiddo."

Things were on the up and up. Maybe the world had decided to give Newt a break. Maybe things were really getting better.


	31. Thirty-one

Newt and Thomas had never had a fight before, and Newt had been worrying about it. He knew couples fought, it was normal, even healthy, but he wasn't sure he could take yelling, and he was sure he couldn't take Thomas being mad at him.

Their first fight was that night. Newt had been on their bed, working out, as his father had predicted, taxes and saving. Thomas had been pestering him for affection and attention, and Newt had been telling him for an hour that he was busy when he'd finally gotten fed up.

"Thomas, _please._ There is nothing that I want more than to stop doing this and spend time with you, but I am busy. And not busy with something that can just, wait till later. I have to do this now. And you're making it _very_ difficult for me to concentrate, so if you could please just let me get this done, it would be very much appreciated." he snapped. Thomas frowned at him, which slowly morphed into a pout.

"All I want you to do is relax, is that so bad?" He defended.

"Yes, because I have to get this done. It's important." he tried again. Thomas just sighed and got off the bed, jumping down and crossing the corridor into where everyone else was. Newt sighed and rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand. Now he felt like he had to apologise. And he hadn't even done anything wrong. He'd been patient for an hour, and Thomas hadn't left him alone. So he kept going.

When he'd finished, Newt decided he needed some fresh air, so he got off the bus, that had parked outside the venue for the night, and decided to have an explore to clear his head. He found the front door and pushed it open, glancing around the car park. He pushed his way up onto a rail, watching the cars go past on a distant road. He hummed softly to himself, counting the cars as they sped by.

The dark made him shiver, and he sighed, watching the breath come out in a soft cloud. It hadn't been that cold when he'd come out there, how long had he been out there?

The door behind him slammed open, making him jump.

"There you are!" Thomas marched toward him. Newt frowned, wondering why he looked so angry.

"Whats up?" He asked, treading carefully.

"What's up?! _What's up?!_ Do you have any idea how much you scared me?!" He yelled. Newt shrunk slightly, confused as to why he was being yelled at. He didn't want Thomas to be mad at him, he didn't like it.

"What did I do?" He asked.

"You've been missing for a fucking hour! I had no idea where you were, I was terrified!" He shouted, waving his arms wildly.

"I wasn't exactly hard to find." he frowned. Why was Thomas yelling? He hadn't really done anything wrong, had he? He'd just wanted some fresh air, how was he supposed to know how long he'd been gone?

"You are in the dark!" Thomas tried exasperatedly. "Why didn't you tell anyone where you were going?!"

"Because I didn't think it mattered, I just wanted some fresh air!" Newt glared, grip tightening on the rail.

"For an hour?! Without your phone?!" 

"I didn't know how long it had been!' he frowned.

"Well then maybe you should have been a bit more responsible!" Thomas yelled, taking a step forward. Newt stopped short. That was crossing a line.

"Me? More responsible?! I came out here because you _pissed me off_ , because you wouldn't leave me alone when I was being responsible!" he yelled back, jumping of the rail.

"Because I wanted you to relax! Because you never do! You don't think I worry about you every day because you're too responsible?!" He took another step forward, so Newt took a step back. "You don't think I worry about you because you are alway so tense and I don't think I've ever seen you look carefree?!" Newt went quiet, blinking slightly. Why did Thomas worry about that? That was just Newts normal. "You don't even realise how tense you are! Someones gotta do something, it's not healthy." he tried, stepping closer again. Then he sighed, and glanced at his feet.

"Look, Newt, I'm sorry for yelling. I didn't mean to get so angry. I just worry about you. And to me, we had an argument and then you disappear? For an hour? I was scared." he shrugged at his feet. Newt looked down. He felt bad. He didn't want to scare Thomas, he never wanted that.

"I'm sorry." he mumbled.

"Just, bring your phone with you next time." Thomas sighed.

"I will. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you. Or be mad at you." he murmured. The drummer chuckled softly, glancing up.

"You didn't mean to be mad at me?" He repeated back. The blond nodded. "Fair enough. I didn't mean to be mad at you either. And I'm sorry I pushed it." Newt nodded again, smiling softly.

"We're ok?" Newt mumbled.

"Of course we are." Thomas wrapped his arms around his boyfriends waist, pulling him closer. The bassist put his arms around the drummers neck, smiling softly. Thomas smiled, before crouching down and scooping Newt off of his feet.

"AH!" He clung onto the brunette. "W-what are you doing?" He squeaked.

"What does it look like I'm doing?  Taking this here damsel in distress back to safety." Thomas shrugged, turning on his heel back toward the building. Newt scoffed.

"Dork."

-

"There you are!" Sonya smiled at them when Thomas crossed the threshold back into the bus. "Guess what we found out?" 

"What?" The drummer asked, putting Newt back on his feet.

"Come on, I'll show you." she waved them after her, making her way into the sofa bed room. Brenda had a laptop on her lap, the others crowded around. When they glanced up to see the two, they began to grin and laugh.

"What's going on?" The blond frowned, glancing at Thomas who shrugged.

"So, we were just looking at what people were saying about the concert," Minho explained with a big smirk. "And we've found out something."

"What is it?" Newt asked again, making his way to the laptop.

"People ship you and Thomas here." Minho laughed. Thomas scoffed, Newt blinking in surprise. 

"What? Why?" He frowned.

"Well, we made the mistake of going on Tumblr, and there is a lot. Photos of 'the way you guys look at each other' and shit." Teresa laughed. "People have videos of what they're calling 'the wink' from earlier. Honestly I'm living for it." she cackled, showing them some of the posts. Thomas glance toward Newt, highly amused.

"Well, do we tell them?" the bassist asked.

"No no. Not yet. Let's see how long we can keep this going before they figure it out." Thomas scoffed. "Let's tell them a couple shows in."

"Oh this is going to be highly entertaining." Sonya snorted. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edit: thought I’d let yall know there’s a new one-shot up on Fingerprints if you’ve read that <33


	32. Thirty-two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thought I’d let yall know there’s a new one-shot up on Fingerprints if you’ve read that <33

"I can't believe people ship us. I mean is it that obvious?" The blond asked, licking his ice cream. The two were strolling down the street, having gotten to their next venue way too early, the others had decided to go explore, and Thomas and Newt had immediately taken the opportunity to spend some time together.

"Who knows babes." Thomas shrugged, leaning forward and licking Newt's ice cream.

"Oi!" The bassist shoved him off. "Greedy little bastard." he pouted, pulling his ice cream closer to himself.

"Here," The drummers warm hand slipped into the blonds back pocket, patting once and drawing away. "Buy yourself a new one." he smiled with a wink. Newt rolled his eyes and nudged his boyfriends shoulder with his own.

"I hate you." he grumbled.

"No you don't." Thomas chuckled.

"Yes I do." 

"No you don't. You love me." Thomas shrugged, eyeing the blonds ice cream.

"Do not." Newt defended, shoving the brunette again. Thomas grabbed his hand tightly, drawing it upward. Newt cursed, watching as his hand was pressured up around the two-dollars.

"Couldn't even wait." The drummer dropped Newt's hand, who pushed the two dollars back in his pocket with a huff. "I'm not sure wether you're just really eager to get that money back to me, or you just can't keep your hands off of me." 

"You are aware that you're not actually a sex god aren't you?" Newt challenged, handing the cone to his boyfriend. He didn't really like cones. Thomas took it with a hum, biting into it. 

"No, not anymore. You know, I used to get around everywhere. I was a player, I had the women falling at my feet." he shrugged. "And I had a type." he took another thoughtful bite from the cone. "Girls with dark hair and light eyes. Like Teresa. Maybe even Brenda." he glanced toward his boyfriend. "Left all of that, for a pale, dark eyed, blond boy." he hummed thoughtfully.

"Well, sorry I got in the way of your great escapades of becoming a worshipped sex god." he scoffed. 

"Oh don't be. I much prefer this. Cuz, I had two options." he explained, Newt nodded in acknowledgement, "keep up my reputation, keep having the girls fall at my feet, and wait to see if my crush would pass," another bite. "Or, go after you. And I mean sure, I could fill the space with other people, but I couldn't stand the thought of other people trying anything on you." Newt didn't have to think about it to know he was talking about the party. "It just pissed me off so much. And, sure, I thought that I could just ignore my weird possessiveness, but not after Gally kissed you. I wanted to break that assholes legs." he managed to grit out. Newt squeezed his hand, giving him a happy smile.

"Well, Gally's long gone now." he shrugged. "And you're a better kisser." he reassured the brunette.

"Oh yeah? How much of a better kisser?" The drummer asked. Newt hummed in thought for a moment.

"Actually, only a bit. He wasn't _that_ bad." He smirked mischievously. Thomas stopped in his tracks, looking positively outraged. 

"Do you want me to make you regret that?" He warned, crossing his arms over his chest. Newt just shrugged carelessly and kept walking.

"Depends what that entails." He turned around, only to be met by Thomas practically blowing steam from his ears. Newt was surprised how much of a nerve he'd hit, but he certainly wasn't complaining. It was rather entertaining. Thomas crossed the space between them, and opened his mouth to say something.

"Excuse me?" They heard a voice. Thomas blinked, taking a step back and turning toward the source of the noise. Newt glanced toward them: A gaggle of teenagers, watching them intently with their phones already poised.

"Hi." one of them whispered, "we were wondering if we could get a few photos." one of the girls smiled. The two glanced at each other, nodding.

"Sure thing." Thomas smiled. He began to chat with the fans, learning their names and whether they liked the band or not. Newt joined in when he could or was required too, leaving most of the talking up to the brunette.

"Can we ask a question?" One of the girls asked, watching as Newt signed her phone case. "Not to be, like, disrespectful, or anything, but are you two actually a couple?" She asked. Newt looked up toward the brunette, who was looking at her.

"Isn't it better to imagine sometimes?" He asked. "The truth can be disappointing sometimes."

"So you're not?" one of the boys frowned in confusion.

"Who knows?" Thomas shrugged, singing a phone case too. The teenagers exchanged glances of confusion, before taking a few photos. Fifteen minutes later, they were happy. 

"Thanks! We love your work!" On sang as they skipped off. Newt watched them, a soft frown on his features. He wasn't sure how he felt about fans. Of course, they'd been lovely, and Newt could tell they meant well and genuinely liked the stuff they were putting out, but there was only so much spotting on the street he could take.

"Sweet kids." Thomas shrugged. Newt nodded, humming in satisfaction at the small bill sat snugly in Thomas' back pocket.


	33. Thirty-three

Sonya's eye-brows knitted together, and her brother frowned, watching her from afar. Her eyes scanned the laptop screen, scrolling slightly. Staring at the page for a moment, she closed the lid of the device and rubbed her eyes with the heel of her palm.

"Son'?" Newt stepped forward, sitting on the edge of her bed. "What is it?" He frowned. She chewed on her lip for a moment, before opening up the laptop again and turning it toward him.

"It's probably fake." she shrugged, the soft quiver in her voice betraying her. The blond slid it onto his lap, glancing over it with a soft frown. It was an email from someone he didn't recognise, linking back to one of the YouTube videos Sonya had posted of the band. He began to read.

_Hello,_

_Do you remember me?_

_Do you remember how you hurt us?_

_It doesn't matter if you do. We'll make you remember. We're coming for you, and there is nothing you can do to stop it._

_No need to worry your pretty little head about it, it's not like you'll be able to stop it. We can't be stopped._

_The end is near, it's coming Sonya. You've reached the end of your rope._

_See you in a few days._

Newt's stomach tightened as he glanced up at his sister, taking her hand in his.

"Could it be them?" she whispered. He dismissed the thought. That wasn't possible. It just wasn't. They were in prison, Newt counted the days. He _counted_. And even if they were out, the group were constantly on the move. They couldn't get to her. It wasn't possible.

He counted.

He had counted.

They'd been in there for 783 days.

783.

They had 496 to go.

They had more than a year to go. 

She was safe.

They still had 496 days. 

"Newt?" she breathed, breath catching. He shook himself out of his thoughts, closing the laptop and taking both of her hands in his.

"It's alright Son'. It's not possible, they're still in prison. They won't hurt you." he prayed that his eyes didn't betray his true fear.

"Then how do you explain that?!" She asked exasperatedly, motioning toward the device.

"It's vague. It doesn't say anything, no specifics but your name which anyone could find. We're assuming the worst, which we shouldn't be because it's not them. It's impossible. Now," he sighed slightly at his hands. "Fame comes with fans. And some of them cross lines. It's just a crazy fan who wants your attention, you know that right?" He told her, trying his best to reassure her with eye contact, even thought it was something that had never come easily to the bassist.

"Yeah. Yeah you're right." she nodded, swallowing her nerves.

"We can report the email, and then boom, no more issue." he shrugged.

Newt prayed he was right.

-

"You're right. It'll just be a crazy fan." Thomas murmured, keeping his voice low for the people sleeping through the thin walls and hall. He was gently fiddling with Newt's fingers, a new habit.

"I better be." he whispered, glancing downward, despite the dark.

"You are Newt. You said yourself, it can't be them." He hummed, "486 days?" 

"496." He corrected him sharply.

"Right, 496. She's alright Newt. Don't worry about it." the brunette murmured, concentrating more on the blonds fingers.

"I won't let anyone hurt her again." The bassist whispered sharply. "I'd kill someone before anyone touches a bloody _hair_ on her head again." he spat out, grip around Thomas' fingers tightening sharply. The drummer glanced up toward the blonds eyes in his dark, and he slowly began to massage relaxation into the blonds fingers.

"Hey, hey Newt it's ok. It's alright." he hummed, sitting up slightly. "It'll be alright. No one's going to hurt her. She's safe." he reassured his boyfriend softly, running his thumbs over Newt's knuckles.

"You're right." The blond sighed, slumping back into the bed. "Sorry."

"No, no don't be. I get it. She means more than you than I could ever understand. I'm not gonna pretend I wouldn't kick some ass for Chuck too." he chuckled softly, Newt humming in mild amusement. "You know what they all look like? The guys from the roof?"

"Of course. I couldn't forget those faces." Newt gritted out, hands tightening around Thomas' again. 

"Exactly." The brunette coaxed him back down to relaxation slowly. "So you know who you're looking for if anything happens." he said softly.

"Yeah. Yeah. You're right." The blond sighed, curling up slightly. Thomas hummed and ran a hand up to Newt's hair, the rest of the tension running out quickly as he slacked at the motion.

"Get some sleep." Thomas advised.

"Lead by example."


	34. Thirty-four

The five were just sat in a park, drinking slushies and listening to music. Once again, the group had arrived at their next venue too early, and so the band had decided to give themselves some time to actually just be teenagers, and do things that normal teenagers would do. Newt was sat by the swings, watching Brenda and Thomas gently swing, Minho stood behind them, every now and then giving them a sharp push in an attempt to push them off, Teresa crouched next to the set, watching them too.

"Have you guys ever tried drugs?" Brenda asked, sipping on her slushie.

"'Drugs' is quite a broad subject." Minho sounded off from behind her.

"You know what I mean. Weed, coke, anything really." she shrugged. He hummed in thought, glancing at his friends.

"I don't think so. If I had, it would have been with you guys, so if you haven't, I haven't." 

"We've done a lot that we don't remember mate." Thomas hummed into his straw.

"Why are you asking?" Teresa asked the girl sat on the swings, who was glancing around the park.

"I dunno. We're teenagers, aren't we supposed to have at least tried weed?" She shrugged.

"Don't. It's gross." Newt murmured. They stopped and blinked at him. Then Thomas, Brenda and Minho burst into cackles.

"Where's your sweet little innocent Newt now Teresa?" Minho cackled, clapping her on the back.

"Newt?!" The keyboardist asked exasperatedly. "When the fuck have you tried weed?"

"At a party I went too back in England." he shrugged. "You go to the right parts of London, you can find all sorts." he explained. "I didn't mean to try it." 

"Did the blunt just, fall into your mouth or something?" Minho raised an eyebrow skeptically.

"No, obviously not," he glowered at his best friends sarcasm. "I was kissing this dude, and then he put it in my mouth." he shrugged. 

"Did you get high?" Teresa asked, drawing her knees up to her chest.

"I woke up in Edinburgh." he looked down at the floor, trying to stifle his laughter. Thomas burst into more laughter, the other three just blinking at him in stunned silence.

"You woke up in a different country?" Brenda asked for conformation. When the blond nodded, she spluttered into laughter. "How did you make is past the border high?!"

"I don't know! I think I might have been smuggled in illegally. No idea how I got there." he scoffed.

"I mean, that's a talent if you ask me." the guitarist scoffed. He rolled his eyes, watching Teresa stand with a grin on her face.

"Give me your empty cups, I'm going to the trash." she held out her hands, getting four more empty slushie cups thrown at her. One hit her square in the nose, the rest toppling to the floor. She looked down at them for a moment, sighing. "Why is my life full of disappointment?" She asked the cups, before bending over to pick them up.

From behind her, there were a few whistles. She looked shocked for a moment, before sighing and scooping up the rest of the cups.

"Did he just-" Minho trailed off as Teresa straightened, waving it off with a shake to the head. She turned back around, heading toward the trash, toward the source of the noise.

"Hey baby, you're looking' fine today." Newt frowned, looking up toward the source of noise. There were four guys, maybe a little younger than them, watching Teresa go toward the trash can from the climbing frame, whistling and calling out to her. The keyboardist just shot them a polite smile and walked quickly back toward her friends. Thomas stood up from his swing, a dark expression clouding his features. Teresa opened her mouth to calm him, but Brenda got there first.

"Oi! What makes you think you can talk to my friend like that?" She stood up, rolling her sleeves up. Newt swallowed. This couldn't be good.

"Boys, we've got a feisty one too." One of the boys sniggered to his friend. Minho growled, stepping forward. Teresa sighed, glancing at the floor. The guitarist grabbed her hand and squeezed it tight.

"You done being disrespectful, or do I have to come over there and punch some manners into you?" The drummer asked, pushing his own sleeves up.

"Thomas." Newt warned, keeping his voice low.

"Oh, come on big man." One of the boys jumped off of the climbing frame, taking a step forward. His three friends began to murmur protests, but the boy wasn't having it. "See if these girls will like you after you get your ass owned." he smiled, staring the bigger boy down. Newt grabbed Thomas' wrist, pulling him backward.

"Tommy don't be stupid. I know you want to prove a point, but you know how easily our reputation could be ruined. Our careers could go down the drain." he murmured lowly. The brunette hummed in acknowledgment, seemingly weighting out his options. "Just calm down, alright?"

"Alright." Thomas murmured, relaxing his shoulders and taking a step backward. The blond put a hand on the small of his back in gratitude. The boy laughed.

"What I thought." he tutted, grabbing a hold of Brenda's wrist. The group froze, eyes wide. "What she needs is a real man." he hummed. 

Brenda wasn't having that.

She growled and twisted her wrist around in the boys grip, bringing her knee sharply between his legs. He wheezed and let go of her, bending double with the force. Newt dashed forward, taking the singers hand in his own and pulling her backward. The boy glanced upward, glowering at the group. 

"Sorry sweetheart, not sure you'll be able to impress all the women you're clearly getting with your incredible dick now." Teresa smiled sweetly at him, but he just chuckled lowly and straightened slowly.

"You clearly don't know what you're missing out on babe." he murmured. Thomas rolled his eyes and stepped forward. The bassist opened his mouth to stop him, but Thomas' fist had already made contact with the guys face. Newt would be lying if he said he didn't find some satisfaction in the crack that came from the blow, and then the groan afterward. The guy clutched his nose, stumbling back the way he came and past his friends.

"Tommy." Newt frowned, as the brunette turned back around, cracking his knuckles.

"You can't tell me he didn't deserve that." Thomas defended exasperatedly.

"It's ok. It's happened now." Minho shrugged. "And sure, there may be repercussions, but we're a team. We can deal with it together." he shrugged, squeezing Teresa's hand again.

"You're right." Newt nodded, glancing around at his team.


	35. Thirty-five

"We should go to a party." Rachel hummed. Teresa exchanged a glance with Newt, raising her eyebrows.

"Alright calm down there party animal, you're underaged." She patted her sisters shoulder.

"Rachel's right!" Sonya appeared from behind her. "I'm so fed up of being cooped up here, I just wanna go out." she pouted, watching Newt's body language from where she was sat on the bed.

"Whats the point? Not like you can drink." Thomas chimed in, leaning back against the fridge next to the bassist.

"You don't need to drink to have a good time." Rachel retorted, crossing her arms over her chest. Chuck nodded behind him, his half-brother giving him a warning look.

"No way are you going." he pointed accusingly.

"Have you guys even ever been to a proper party?" Minho asked. The three exchanged a glance, shaking their heads.

"No."

"Aw, Min'," Newt smirked, clapping him on the back. "You can't get unbelievably drunk if we're supervising kids." he smiled sweetly. His best friend huffed, glancing toward Brenda, Teresa and finally Thomas.

"I get the feeling I'm not the only one that's gonna be a challenge for." he shrugged.

-

How they found a party Newt had no idea, although he had a sneaking suspicion the parties just came to his friends. Weaving through the crowd, he dragged his sister to a corner of the room, leaning forward into her ear.

"Stay with Rachel." he advised over the music. "Don't leave the house, and if anything goes wrong, come find me. I'll be in this corner. Good that?"

"Good that." she nodded, squeezing her brothers hand as she got pulled away by her friend. Newt sighed, crossing his arms over his chest and looking around the room. Bodies seemed to merge into one, big, jumping mass, dancing to the pounding music, drinks spilling and kisses being shared. The blond almost jumped out of his skin when he felt a hand on his shoulder.

"Sorry." Thomas grinned into the blonds ear. The bassist turned around, rolling his eyes fondly. "You want a drink?" He asked. Newt shook his head, coming closer in an attempt to have a conversation with him.

"What are you doing here?" He asked into the brunettes ear, who moved away slightly, only to frown at him.

"Well where else would I be?"

"I dunno. Suppose I'm just not used to seeing you without a girl on your arm." he hummed softly, more to himself than anyone else.

"Well get used to it. Can't get rid of me that easily babes." Thomas took a hold of his hand. "You wanna dance?" It was more of a statement as Newt got dragged further into the crowd.

"I'm not much of a dancer." he scoffed, glancing toward the floor. Immediately, he felt a thumb and forefinger on his chin, lifting his head upward again.

"Hey, eyes." The drummer reminded him softly. "You don't have to be a dancer." he smiled as Newt met his gaze, dark eyes peppered with the lights from the world around them. "Actually I was hoping you wouldn't be able to dance. Because I can't either." he scoffed, beginning to sway in time with the music.

"You look like a stick, that's why." the blond laughed. "You need to let this go." he ran his hands up to Thomas' shoulders, squeezing the tension out of them. "Let the music do the work Tommy."

"Easy for you to say, you don't even think about it when we're _making_ music." The brunette scoffed, loosening up slightly, and wrapping his arms around the blond.

"Because it's muscle memory." Newt shrugged. "I don't think musics ever been anything you have to think about. It's all in your body: music, singing, dancing. People who love music, they don't just, like it. They need it." he murmured. "It's in their bones, and heir muscles." he ran his hands down to the drummers biceps. "It's in _your_ bones, and it's in _your_ muscles." he snapped out of his little daze, cupping one of the drummers cheeks with his palm. "So stop thinking about it up here." he tapped the boys temple once, hands finally coming to rest back on the brunettes shoulders.

"You really should write poetry." Thomas smiled, beginning to focus more on Newt than the music and people around him. As he did so, his movements became more fluent and in time with his boyfriends.

"Maybe that's my calling." Newt laughed, letting the beat guide his movements and the bass vibrate through his veins.

"You're with the wrong crowd." Thomas scoffed. The blond pouted slightly.

"I am not. I couldn't ask for better friends." he glanced around, doing a quick check to see if he could spot any of them. He managed to catch sight of Teresa, chatting to Minho, then spotting Brenda trying to loosen up Chuck on the dance floor, egged on by Rachel and Sonya. He glanced back, only to meet Thomas' eye. It was only then that he realised the drummer had been staring. His cheeks reddened in the low light, as he tried to fight the urge to break the eye contact.

"You know, you look beautiful when you dance." Thomas murmured, Newt just whining in protest and looking down at his feet. "You do!" He laughed as the blond put his head on the brunettes shoulder with another grumble. "Come on, bass is about to drop. This is your element babes." he laughed, coaxing the blond back up to straighten.

"You know just because I play bass, I'm not obsessed with it right?" He chuckled.

"No, you are obsessed. That's exactly what you are."

"I am not!" he defended.

"Ok, well what are you obsessed with then? Everyones obsessed with something." The drummer countered, watching the blonds eyes.

"I'm not obsessed with anything I don't think." he hummed. "Actually, that's a lie. I am obsessed with one thing." he moved with Thomas, neither of them thinking much of it. It was a simple thing, but that's what Newt loved. For things to be simple for just a while.

"What is it?"

"The way you make me feel." Newt shrugged, like it was the simplest thing in the world. He supposed it was. He hadn't thought about saying that, because he hadn't had too. His muscles spoke for him. His heart spoke for him. 

Thomas watched him for a moment, before the traces of a smile fell onto his lips, which he quickly pressed against Newt's. Thomas wasn't just a person to Newt. He was a feeling, a rush. He was music, he had the same affect. He made the hairs on the back of Newt's neck stand up and made his heart glow with happiness. It was raw, and certainly music that had a few harmonies that needed perfecting. But that was ok. 

"I'm better than bass?" Thomas repeated with a slight chuckle.

"Well that'a a bold statement. But you're up there." he grinned, watching the brunette roll his eyes fondly and move with the music. Moved with his muscles, and for a moment, Newt didn't think about anything but the beat guiding his movements, the bass vibrating through his veins and Thomas pounding against his heart.


	36. Thirty-six

Newt rummaged through his stuff, running a frustrated hand through his hair and groaning. He was on his knees in a dressing room, searching for his pick with his guitar propped against the wall. He kept searching, getting more frantic by the second. He saw feet stop in front of him, and glanced up to see Minho watching him with an eyebrow raised.

"What are you looking for mate?" He asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

"My pick. You haven't seen it have you?" The blond asked, taking the hand his best friend offered him.

"Yeah, last time I checked Thomas had it." Minho pulled him up.

"What? Why?" The bassist frowned slightly, already wracking his brain for any knowledge of where his boyfriend could be.

"He takes your shit all the time. I think he just likes to have it with him." the guitarist shrugged, pocketing his hands.

"Do you know where he could be?" 

"He might be at the stage door, he's probably talking to some of the fans." the boy shrugged, the blond nodding.

"How long have I got?" He asked, already backing up toward the stage door.

"Damn what is this, twenty questions?" Minho huffed, glancing at his watch all the same. "Fifteen."

"Thanks Min'!" He called after him, taking off down the stairs toward the stage door. He hesitated for a moment when he got to the handle, thinking over his options. He wasn't a fan of stage doors. Newt was a fairly nervy person, a lot of excited people in one place wasn't exactly his idea of fun. But still, he needed to find his pick, so he pushed open the door.

All eyes snapped to him, before cheers erupted around him. The bassist just smiled and murmured a thank you, turning toward a gaggle of girls watching him intently.

"Hi girls, nice to meet you." He offered with a smile. The girls squealed and tried to recompose themselves, getting out a mutual response. "Have you by any chance seen Tommy?" They exchanged a glance, eyes laced with excitement and nerves, the one at the front speaking up.

"Yeah, we saw him. He's just around the corner I think." she offered, pointing the direction out to him. He smiled at them, already backing up.

"Thanks so much!" He turned on his good heel, taking off skidding around the corner. He spotted Thomas signing something, and the blond immediately softened. He couldn't be mad, not at Thomas. "Tommy." he called out. All eyes around this new corner turned to him, cheers exploding again. Thomas smiled at him warmly, giving a boy back his phone and walking toward the blond, meeting him half way. There were various squeals about them being cute together, and Newt tried his best not to laugh at the irony.

"Wassup?"

"You stole my pick. I've been looking for it for the past half hour." he tried to sound accusing, but it more came out as a light hearted chuckle.

"Oh." The brunette furrowed his brow, reaching into his back pocket and pulling out the contents. "Well I have this." He held up the tattered two dollar bill, making the bassist smile sweetly, and a pick. Newt's pick.

"Oi!" The blond snatched it off of him, smacking his arm lightly. The crowd were watching intently, hanging on their every word.

"Sorry sorry. Must have picked it up on habit." The drummer held up his hands in surrender, laughing softly. Newt rolled his eyes, doing a quick survey of the crowd. Different colours: blue, red, grey, black, green, yellow peppered it. The blond noted the normality of everyone, their excitement the only thing making them seem slightly abnormal. There were three girls at the back, watching him intently, hoodies pulled low over their short hair. A girl in a blue dress was filming the two of them with a big grin on her face.

"Wanna play up to it?" The brunette whispered, leaning forward the tiniest bit so that Newt could hear him.

"You're so mean." The blond laughed softly, nodding all the same.

"That's why you love me silly." He waved off the blond, keeping the two dollars snugly in his hand. The crowd burst into squeals and screeches, much to Thomas' delight.

"You wish." the blond scoffed, turning away from him. Thomas frowned, stepping away from him.

"Mean."

"Sorry." he patted the drummers shoulder, laughing slightly.

"Sure you are babes." Thomas rolled his eyes naturally. The entire crowds breath seemed to catch at the nickname. 

"Tommy, stop flirting with me, we're keeping these people waiting." the blond motioned toward the audience they'd obtained, watching with wide eyes.

"Don't let us stop you." the blue-dressed girl whispered.

"I'm not the one flirting." Thomas challenged, stepping closer to his band-mate.

"I'm not the one who called me babes." Newt retorted easily.

"You're the only one that calls me Tommy." the drummer challenged.

"Teresa calls you Tom." 

"Doesn't count." He shrugged.

"Why not?!" Newt laughed exasperatedly, subconsciously stepping forward.

"Because she's not the one who drools over me on a daily basis." he smirked, murmuring slightly because of the lack of space. The blond crossed his arms over his chest, raising his eyebrows in skepticism. 

"Drooling? I'm surprised you don't drown in your own narcissism sometimes." 

"I don't need to be narcissistic. Why tell yourself you're incredibly handsome, when you have someone to do that for you?" he asked, taking the blonds chin in his thumb and forefinger again. Newt felt his arm snaking around his waist, so he stopped it with his hand, taking a grip on the two dollars and glancing at it. Then he took Thomas' hand away from his chin, and put the corner of the bill in-between the drummers lips, much to his surprise.

"You're a lot more kissable when you're not talking sweetheart." the blond smiled, patting him on the shoulder and winking, before turning on his heel and sauntering back around the corner. Behind him, he heard the crowd snap, and explode.


	37. Thirty-seven

Newt held onto his bass tightly, following his friends off of the stage, waving and smiling. Sonya was there, smiling and handing him a water. He took it thankfully, furrowing his brows at her. She was shifting her weight from one foot to the other, and just looked uneasy. He took her by the elbow and led her away, into a back room near the stage. 

He'd have to make this quick: after every show, they had some people who had payed extra come backstage, VIP's. They met the band, got to go on stage, things like that. One an average night there was maybe twenty, and Newt had to be there to meet them. They'd paid extra after all.

"What's wrong Son'?" he murmured. She glanced down at her shoes, biting at her nails, a habit she'd picked up from her brother.

"It's nothing. You have to go see the VIP's, go on." she tried to usher him away, but he wasn't having that.

"No, tell me what it is. What's upset you?" he asked again.

"I promise you it's nothing. Just feeling slightly uneasy." she sighed, rubbing the back of her neck nervously.

"About what? Is this about the email?" He asked, taking her arm and giving it a reassuring squeeze.

"No. Not-not really." she stuttered, taking a deep breath. "I was watching people come in. I just thought I saw some people that looked a bit dodgy. They put me on edge, but it was just a feeling. There's nothing more than a hunch to go off, so no need to take it seriously." she sighed out.

"Dodgy? What did they look like?" Her brother frowned.

"They were all wearing hoodies. Shot hair, black, grey, red hoodies, covering their eyes." her shoulders tensed, avoiding eye contact. The blond stopped, arm falling short at his side. The sudden lack of movement had his sister glancing upward with concern. "What?"

"I saw them. At the stage door, they were there." he whispered.

"Well," she shook her head slightly, seemingly to clear it. "Did you recognise them?"

"No, I don't think so, but I only glanced at them. I couldn't possibly say." he shrugged helplessly.

"Do we tell the others?" she asked. "I mean..are-are we in danger?"

"I don't know." he whispered, already backing up toward the door. "But we have to tell them. Now. Better to be safe than sorry." he breathed, taking her hand. "Come on." he tugged her toward the door, the two making their way toward the stage. They hopped up stairs, across the stage, skidding down another flight of stairs and opening the doors into the dressing room. 

To Newt's dismay, there was already a crowd of about twenty blocking the two blonds from the others, who all turned to cheer at them. Newt just shot them a small smile. He slipped through the crowd with his sister in tow. His band-mates and producer clearly noticed their uneasiness, because Jorge frowned.

"Everything ok hermano?" 

"Can I talk to you all really quickly?" he asked, before turning to the crowd. "I'm really sorry, but this is really important. I promise it won't take too long." he offered with a sheepish smile, before leading the six of them away from the group, who were left standing in the dressing rooms, confused and dumbfounded.

They crowded into the corridor, the blond turning to them.

"Sonya and I have both seen three people, who looked kind of dodgy. We were just a bit worried, and I dunno, I guess we just thought we should tell you." he murmured, now realising how petty and stupid it sounded. Jorge, being Jorge though, took it seriously, crossing his arms over his chest and frowning.

"What did they look like?" He asked.

"Uh-short hair, hoodies covering their eyes. One was grey, one black and one red." Sonya recounted for the second time.

"They were with the VIP's." Brenda whispered, eyes widening with realisation.

"You're sure?" Teresa frowned.

"Yeah, positive. Because I remember thinking they looked a little off." she whispered. The group looked around at each other before all moving at once, scrambling back toward the group of VIP's. The crowd looked at them with wide eyes.

"Shit. They're gone." Thomas murmured.

"Get everyone out." Newt breathed.

"On it." Minho made a dash toward the fire alarm, opening it up and slamming his hand down on it. Bells began to ring all around them. The bassist glanced around, watching the VIP's follow Jorge out, confusion and concern lacing their eyes.

"Newt, come on." Thomas pulled on his arms, but he just shook his head, eyes bolted forward.

"No, no Tommy I have to go get my Dad, make sure he makes it ok." he murmured. The brunette watched him for a moment, eyebrows furrowed, before he groaned and nodded.

"Alright then, let's go." he hummed, letting go of Newt's arm. The blond shot him a sheepish, nervous grin and took off running, taking two steps at a time as he made his way back up to the stage. Thomas stayed close on his tail as he crossed the stage, rounded a sharp corner, and opened up the double doors into the parking lot. The parents and some siblings were piling out of them, bleary-eyed and confused.

Newt's father spotted him and marched toward him, giving his son a quick relieved embrace before asking sharply,

"What's going on?"

"We think they might be back." Newt whispered, like he was scared that if he admitted it out loud the situation might become all too real.

"Would that explain the large plume of smoke coming from there?" Chuck asked, pointing toward the venue. The blond turned on his heel, eyes widening. Clouds of dark smoke were coming out of every open window toward the east of the building. Whatever fire was in there, it was huge.

"Where's Sonya?" His father grabbed him by the arm.

"With Minho?" He squeaked, suddenly second-guessing himself.

"How sure are you?" His elder whispered. Newt swallowed, confirming his doubt. Then both blonds took off running again, speeding toward the main entrance.


	38. Thirty-eight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eheh. Sorry about this chapter in advance lmao please don’t hurt me   
> -  
> Also, there’s a new one shot up on fingerprints if yall wanna read that. I think my daily one shots might be back oops

The blood pounded in Newt's ears as he rounded a corner, barrelling his way past the crowd of crew and lingering audience members, all staring up at the smoke inside. He skidded around another corner, leg shooting up with pain. He winced and pushed it down, set on making sure his sister was safe and sound. He almost missed the next turning, cursing how huge the venue was, and the fact that it had taken him so long to get from one side of it to the other.

Finally, he spotted his friends, skidding to a stop in front of them. Minho looked beyond relived, clapping him on the shoulder as the blond tried to catch his breath.

"You ok bud?" the guitarist checked, watching as his father and Thomas drew up next to him. By the time they'd gotten there, fireman and police had already created a human barrier about thirty feet away from the main doors, keeping people back.

"Yeah. You?" the blond got out.

"Yeah we're fine." Teresa assured him with a nervous smile.

"Is Sonya with you?" The blond asked. The four exchanged a glance, Brenda's eyes flaring up with concern.

"We thought she was with you hermano." Jorge murmured carefully. Newt went pale, wheeling towards the fire.

"No.." he breathed. He felt Thomas' breath hitch next to him, eyes widening toward the building, smoke now beginning to plume out of the large doors.

"Sonya!" His father rushed forward, making a mad dash for the entrance. Police were on him in a second, gripping onto his arms and hauling him back toward the crowd, formally telling him that 'they'd find her.' and that he 'needed to calm down.' Their tones weren't in the least bit sincere, which only put the bassist on edge even more. And with the two cops distracted, there was an opening..

Thomas seemed to sense his thinking, immediately diving toward the blonds hand.

"Newt don't!" The blond pushed off on his good foot, dashing forward. The cops whipped around, one of them launching themselves toward him in an attempt to tackle the boy, but Newt ducked under him and kept running, never once faltering. He dashed inside the building. 

The heat took all of the oxygen from his lungs. He immediately felt fear and smoke clogging at his throat, eyes beginning to water uncontrollably. He ripped off the fabric of his jacket, covering his mouth with it as he made his way further inside.

"Sonya!" He called. "SONYA WHERE ARE YOU?!" He yelled, breath constricting, causing a series of splutters and coughs. He grabbed a door handle, only to pull back with a yelp. The handle was burning, stinging the palm of his hand white. The fire was behind that door. He didn't have long.

"SONYA!" He yelled, whipping around, tears blearing his vision.

"Newt!" He heard a soft call from nearby, the blond turning on his good heel.

"Sonya?! Where are you?!" He began to run toward the source of the noise, turning a corner to what used to be the dressing room. The doorway had collapsed in on itself, and the fire was raging away at the room behind it. He had about a minute. Worse than the time limit, was the fact that Sonya was trapped under the debris, ash and blood clogging at the deep gash on her arm.

"Son!" He gasped, immediately rushing to her side and getting a hold of a heavy piece of dry wall.

"Newt," was all she could breathe, tears streaming at her eyes.

"It's ok. It's alright, I got it." He tugged at it, groaning in effort as he tried to pull it off. He squeezed his streaming eyes shut, pulling with everything he could put into it. But it wasn't budging. Gasping for breath, he stepped back, eyeing the raging fire the was getting closer by the second. He tugged up the sleeves of his shirt, wrapping his arms around the large piece of dry wall. 

Suddenly there were hands next to his, tugging at the debris. He glanced up, eyes widening as much as they could at Thomas' presence.

"What are you doing here?" he groaned with the effort, wall finally beginning to move with the new strength.

"Shit happened." Thomas winced with effort, Sonya crying out in pain as the two boys finally tugged the wall free. Immediately, Newt scooped up his sister, nodding at his boyfriend to lead the way.

"What were you thinking?!" He scolded the girl, who just smiled sheepishly against her brothers chest.

"I wanted to get your bass. You've done so much for me, and it's the one thing you've got left of mum." she whispered in-between coughs. 

"Son', I can get a new bass. I can't get a new sister." he rounded the corner after Thomas, the entrance finally becoming visible. The two began to run toward it, the cool night air calling to them. The drummer skidded to a halt, pulling the bassist short. Newt squatted to the ground, covering Sonya's head with his shoulder and head, Thomas covering the both of them as the wall above the entrance caved in, trapping them in completely. They heard distant screams and wails of those outside, only imagining that they'd lost the three teens.

When the dust cleared, Newt glanced up, nodding to Thomas. They couldn't give up. Not yet. They ran toward the blockage, beginning to tear at it with their hands, kicking and clawing at the wall.

"Minho!" Newt tried, grabbing at some debris with his spare hand. "Dad!" 

"Mom! Vince!" Thomas tried. The three of them were coughing and spluttering, and Newt could feel himself getting light headed and his knees almost buckling. He tried to clear his eyes from tears, only resulting in more forming. Just when he was about to give up, he heard Chuck call.

"They're there! I heard them! Quick, get to the blockage!" There was a stampeding of feet, and then tugging at the wall, grunts and yelps being heard from the other side.

"Newt?! Newt are you there?!" He heard his father call as he pulled the skin off of his fingers, making them bleed with the effort.

"I'm here! I've got her Dad, make a hole!" he called through.

"We're nearly through!" He heard Teresa reassure them, grunting.

"Hang on guys, we've got you!" Newt saw a finger at his left, and he yelped slightly in surprise. The finger became a second finger, then a third, and then a whole hand.

"My hands through!" Brenda called, grabbing onto as much debris as she could and tugging her hand backward. Rock went flying, the hole widening. Thomas was at the new break immediately, pulling away at the shrapnel. 

"All hands here, we've got a break!" The blond heard Minho order. The new found concentration of grabbing hands made the chest level hole wide enough quickly. Newt glanced back, only to see the fire gaining on them.

"The fires nearly here! I'm handing Sonya through!" He called. They were out of time, and the break was only big enough to fit the girl through, and he hadn't gone in there, risking his life, for her to just die. Using the last of his strength, he lifted the girl toward the large arms of his father at his chest height, who had offered his strong arms to carry the girl through the wall.

"Hold on tight Son'" he advised with a soft smile.

"Wait." the girl said weakly. digging into her pocket and pulling out his pick. She put it into his hand carefully, then squeezed his burnt palm around it tightly, nodding with a soft smile. 

"Thank you Son'." he whispered, kissing her hand, before she got pulled through the hole, disappearing from view. He turned, glancing toward Thomas, face mirroring the brunettes. They both knew that was it. They'd ran out of time, and neither of them could fit through the hole, which was expanding too slowly, despite all of their friends and families best efforts.

Newt dove forward and caught the drummers lips in a kiss before he even knew what was happening. Maybe it was the heat, or maybe it was the sudden ability to lean on each other had both teens sinking to their knees, falling back against the blockage.

Somewhere Newt heard the voices of his friends. Somewhere he felt the heat rising, felt the dust clogging at his eyes and the smoke pluming its way into his lungs, but all he saw was Thomas' eyes. The eye contact never once faltered, not even when the drummer pulled out the two dollar bill and kept it flat against his palm, before intertwining it against Newts.

"I love you. You know that right?" Thomas whispered. Newt nodded, chapped lips opening with effort as his eyes began to roll backward.

"I love you too." he whispered. The last thing he saw was the wall giving way behind them, and the two of them falling to the ground from where they were leaning. He didn't feel the rush of cold air around him, he didn't feel the involuntary gasp of clean air he took, or the hot tears spilling down his cheeks, or the impact of his arm and head against the cold, marble slab of the floor.

All he felt was Thomas.

All he felt was music.

 


	39. Thirty-nine

"Newt?"

Darkness.

"Newt?"

He couldn't see anything. It was all dark.

"Sweetie?"

the first thing he saw were large dark eyes, exactly like his own. A lock of thick blond hair fell in front of his mothers face, and she tucked it behind her ear with a soft smile.

"M-mum?" he croaked out.

"Hi Sweetie." she murmured, keeping a firm palm on his chest to stop him from sitting up. The blond glanced around. They were in an ambulance, two paramedics rushing around him. Sat opposite him, was his father, glancing off into space. No one could see the woman but him.

Newt's mother was beautiful. She had long curling blond hair, bouncing off of her shoulders, that and her smile radiating off on her eyes, sparkling every time the wrinkles at the corners of them came to show when she grinned.

"How-how are you-w-whats going on?" He whispered, putting his palm over her mothers. Her hand curled around his, warmth radiating off of him. 

"Shh. Don't worry sweetheart." she soothed, running her other palm gently through his matted hair. "I'm here to come and get you."

"C-come get me?" He repeated, blinking in the situation.

"Yeah. If you want too." She smiled reassuringly. "You can come with me if you want."

"I'd like that." he croaked, gripping tightly onto her hand as if she would disappear at any moment.

"Well, you can't come back here sweetheart. And you'd have to leave your father and Son'. And all your friends, and that Tommy of yours." she hummed, absentmindedly carding through his hair.

"Why-why can't you stay here?"

"No sweetheart. This isn't my place." she smiled at him. "You don't have to come with me now." she advised softly. "You could come with me when you're older if you want."

"I'm so tired." he closed his eyes for a moment, clinging to her hand as his elder sighed softly.

"I know sweetie, I know. That's why I'm here a little early. To see if you wanted to get some rest." she murmured softly to him.

"How long would it be until I'd see Dad and Sonya again? And all my friends?" he breathed, opening his eyes again to watch her.

"I couldn't say. Maybe a few years, maybe a life time." she sighed with uncertainty, running a thumb over her sons bloodied knuckles. Newt whimpered, squeezing his eyes shut.

"I-I think I'd like to stay. At least for a bit longer." he sniffed, not making any move to let go of the woman.

"That's my Newt. Always the fighter." the woman smiled fondly at her son, leaning forward and kissing his forehead before standing. He clung to her, squeezing tightly."It's alright sweetheart. I'll see you again. Just hopefully not too soon, yeah?"

"Yeah." he whispered.

"Promise me?" She warned.

"I promise."

Letting go was the hardest thing he'd ever had to do.

-

He awoke again with a spluttering cough, whole body lurching forward as his lungs constricted. His father was at his bed side in an instant, helping him to sit up and cough out the spasm.

"You're alright Newt, you're ok. Get it out, get it all out, you're alright." he coaxed gently, rubbing the boys back soothingly. The blond spluttered out the last of it, falling slack against his fathers side. He glanced around.

The hospital room was small, flowers and gifts left on a small bed side table. His hands and leg were bandaged, and all the sterile colours hurt his eyes.

"Dad?" He whispered.

"It's alright. They're both ok. Sonya's gonna be let out tomorrow, and Thomas is in stable condition too. They caught the bastards that did it too. The same people you and Son' suspected. Got out of prison." he murmured, gently carding through the boys hair.

"You're sure they're both ok?" The bassist croaked out.

"One hundred percent."

"Dad, I-I." he choked out. "I saw Mum. In the ambulance." he whispered. he felt his father tense underneath him, felt his jaw move as he glanced down at his son.

"What did she say?"

"She..She asked me if I wanted to come with her. I decided not too. I didn't want to go with her just yet. I wanted to stay with you." he whispered.

"Good choice buddy." he hummed. "Well done."

-

"Hey mate!" Minho skidded in with the two girls hot on his heels, grinning.

"Ew." Newt deadpanned, sitting up in bed. He'd been awake for almost a day, and was itching to get out and see Sonya and Thomas. Unfortunately, the nurses seemed to be the work of the devil, and wouldn't let him see them. He was gonna commit a murder.

"Rude." The guitarist pouted. "I got you a salad." he drew up a chair, passing the bassist a tub of salad and a fork.

'"Thanks mate." he smiled gratefully, taking the pot from him.

"We got you chocolates." Teresa grinned sheepishly. "I know you're not much of a chocolate guy, but, I think you deserve them." she smiled, putting them down on the side table.

"Thanks guys. You can have some if you want." he offered, stabbing a tomato. Brenda dove forward, only to have her hands smacked away by Teresa.

"No! They're Newts!"

"But he said-"

"I don't care." she scolded. "You haven't even said hello yet." Newt laughed slightly, Brenda turning to him with a slight pout.

"Hi bitch. Glad you're not dead."

"Thanks Asshat."

-

"Newt!" The blond girl burst in at speed, diving forward and launching herself on top of him. He wheezed, wrapping his arms around her tightly. "Sorry, sorry." she laughed, glancing up at him.

"It's ok." he grinned. "How are you feeling?"

"Better. Discharged me just now, and I'm feeling good. What about you?"

"Good. I feel fine, I have no idea why they're keeping me here for another two days. I'm starting to wish I had died." he groaned.

"Why? What's grinding your gears?"

"I'm bored out of my mind. And I hadn't seen you. That's all I wanted to do." he grumbled. "But you're here now. And you're safe." he hummed, before his expression hardened. "Oh yeah. And next time, don't run into bloody burning buildings just to get a guitar!" the blond gently smacked her over the head.

"Sorry." she grumbled. "I didn't mean to get trapped. I thought I had more time." she went a little quiet, glancing downward. He squeezed her tightly, kissing her head.

"Hey now, chin up." he warned. "We're all safe now." he smiled.

"I still have to make up all of the time you've saved my life to you." she hummed, furrowing her brow slightly.

"You could do something for me." he thought for a second, watching her eyebrows raise in question.

-

Newt hummed slightly, picking at his nails. He watched the cars go by from where he was hidden outside the back entrance of the hospital. The door opened, and Sonya tugged the boy out, before backing into the building and closing the door behind her. Newt pushed himself off of the brickwork, smiling softly.

"Hi."

"Hey you." Thomas stepped closer, immediately wrapping his arms around the blond for a tight embrace. "I've been going mad in there. They won't let me see you." he hummed into the blonds hair. Newt clutched onto his shoulder, sighing in response.

"I know."

"How are you feeling?" The drummer pulled back slightly to look over his boyfriend.

"I feel fine. I don't know why they're keeping me for another two days." he sighed, rolling his eyes.

"I get out tomorrow, I'll come visit the bedridden." the brunette scoffed.

"So you're feeling ok?" 

"Yeah. I'm alright." Thomas nodded. Three sharp knocks came from the inside of the door. They had to go. Thomas turned on his heel, giving the boy's hand one final squeeze.

"Wait. Tommy?"

"Hm?"

"Do you still have it? The two dollars?" he murmured.

"Of course. I'd never let it go." The brunette smiled. Newt watched his eyes for a moment, humming slightly.

"So you meant it? When you said that you loved me? You weren't just saying that in the heat of the moment?" He swallowed, palms getting sweatier. Thomas looked him over slightly, before stepping closer once again, capturing the blonds lips in a soft kiss.

It was slow and meaningful, full of tracing fingers, glad to just be able to keep feeling the others warm skin on theirs. It was sighs of contentedness, featherlight touches that would leave featherlight marks for days. Thomas gently pulled away, running a lock of blond hair backward to join the others.

"Believe me?"

"Yes."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One more chapter ya'll :'(  
> I have no idea how all of my pics end up being forty chapters but like I'm here for my branding??  
> DO NOT FRET MY CHILDREN!!  
> (yes you're my children)  
> FOR I HAVE ANOTHER FIC PLANNED  
> (obviously, you know me)  
> AND YES IT IS NEWTMAS  
> (cuz honestly my boys just own my heart and I can't think if anyone else I'd want to write about so??


	40. Forty

"I thought we were going to the cafe?" Newt asked, glancing at his boyfriend, who shrugged.

"Maybe I wanted to treat you." he glanced toward the blond, who just rolled his eyes fondly.

"You treat me too much. What if one day you just wake up and I'm a spoilt brat? What happens when I want gucci and pandora?" He challenged, watching the world go by outside.

"I don't know if I can afford that." Thomas scoffed. "All I've got is two dollars. You want that?" He asked, pulling the bill out of his pocket and holding it out to the bassist.

"You can keep it." he laughed, watching the trees disappear behind them. "Where are we going?" 

"That's a surprise babes." The drummer scoffed. "I can't tell you that yet."

"You're no fun." Newt huffed, drawing his knees up to his chest. He turned his body in his seat, watching the brunette hum softly in acknowledgement, eyes kept forward and thumbs drumming to the song on the radio, murmuring softly in the background. Always drumming. Always music. Wherever they went. "God." he heard himself breathe. Thomas glanced in his direction.

"What?"

"I just want to know how I ended up with you." he hummed. "I mean, you're.." he tried to think of any word that could sum up Thomas, but found the expressions escaping him. "You're Thomas." he ended up sighing exasperatedly. Thomas grinned fondly, seemingly endeared by Newt's lack of ability to use the english language correctly.

"Shit happens." he shrugged.

"Why do you say that so much?" The bassist questioned, watching the way his small dimple dipped every time he smiled, the way his eyebrows quirked every time he started to think.

"I'm not sure. I mean, I think it just sums up our lives. Its wild, and completely out of our control. But that's ok. Because at the end of the day, shit happens, theres nothing we can do to change that, and we've just got to trust that it'll right itself." he hummed.

"I didn't think anyone could make something so deep out of the saying 'shit happens.'" the blond scoffed, watching with a smile as Thomas laughed. He shifted gear, putting the car into park after they slowed to a stop. The bassist ripped his gaze away from his boyfriend, glancing around at where they were. They seemed to be atop a hill, peering down on the city the crew were staying in.

"How did you find this place?" Newt asked, jumping out of the car, and watching the distant lights twinkle in the night.

"I saw it when we drove in. Just had a hunch it'd be a nice place to go." The brunette shrugged, getting out of the car and leaving the door open. He leant over back into it, fiddling around with something Newt couldn't see. He watched him fumble for a moment, before hearing the click of a CD being inserted, and then Thomas turned up the volume. It was some song Newt knew the words too, not that that made it significant, but he wasn't really paying attention to that.

"Wanna dance?" The drummer grinned, holding a hand out toward the boy. Newt scoffed fondly, taking his hand and snaking them around Thomas' neck. The brunette placed his hands on Newt's hips, the two immediately melting in sync with each other.

"You're better than before." the blond hummed in observation, watching Thomas move with fluidity.

"I do try." he laughed, pulling the bassist closer. Newt watched his eyes for a moment in the dark, distant specks of lighting making light dots of amber in the irises.

"Can't believe when I came to senior year, my plan was to avoid boys and friends, get my grades and go into art." he scoffed slightly to himself.

"Do you wish you'd done that?" The brunette asked, shoulders brushing as they moved together.

"Hell no. I've never felt as alive as I do here, with you." he breathed. Newt had been quiet after his mother died. The music stopped. It all stopped. And he'd intended to keep it that way. And then, he'd closed his eyes and jumped into the unknown, only to end up in the most beautiful music he'd ever heard.

The music danced on his skin everyitme Thomas' fingers traced the surface. The music tingled on his shoulder when Minho playfully nudged him. The music sang when Sonya squeezed his hand and grinned at him. The music hummed when Teresa hugged him tightly. The music traced his hand every time he playfully smacked Brenda, only to get a slap back. The music was new, welcome whenever his father came close. The music paused for a heartbeat every time his pick, dangled around his neck, hit his skin.

"Would you do it again? Despite everything?" Thomas whispered.

"I wouldn't change a thing. If I could do it all again, just to end up in this exact place with you, even if my mother is still dead, my leg doesn't work properly and some of my burns will never really heal, I'd do it all again." he nodded.

"Why? What's so special about being here with me right now?" Thomas cocked his head.

"This." Newt held his eye contact, much to Thomas' pleasure, and leant forward, catching his boyfriends lips in a kiss. 

It was an orchestra. It was a crescendo. It was the fluidity of the guitar. The smoothness of the keys. The rasp in a voice. The chill of perfect harmonies. The way the hairs on the back of the neck stand up. The gasp of new life that came with the drums. The pounding vibrations the bass made. It was music, and it was perfect.

Even when he felt the soft paper of the two dollar bill in his back pocket, he didn't part until his lungs asked for more breath. When he took the breath though, it wasn't filled with smoke and it wasn't filled with clean air. It was filled with Thomas. With Music.

"This is music to my ears."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Damn. I hate ending fics tbh, but I guess they can't go on forever :'( Anyway, thanks so much for all of your ongoing support with this fic, and just my writing in general, since I know some of you have been here since Fingerprints. I'm excited to be writing my next one tomorrow, and I hope it might interest some of you guys enough to stick around lmao. Anyway, thanks so much, love you all! <33
> 
> Ps. If ya'll wanna request any one shots for this, I'll see if I can hook you guys up ;)) lmao


	41. Forty-one (one shot suggestion)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi welcome to me procrastinating my revision i mEAN giving you that quality content. Thanks to CC for this request, it was a really cute idea!
> 
> Suggestion: Maybe a one shot on when Newt and Thomas finally tell their fans that they’re together?

Newt couldn't find his jacket. He'd looked everywhere, but it was no where to be found. Straightening, he groaned, rolled his eyes fondly and made his way toward the stage door. He pushed it open, met with the usual cheers of the crowd. He offered them a small smile and locked onto his target.

"Tommy!" The brunette turned at his name, raising his eyebrows from where he was signing something. The blond made a beeline toward his boyfriend, stopping in front of him. Thomas turned on his heel and smiled.

"Whats up Newt?" 

"Why did you steal my jacket?" he crossed his arms over his chest. The crowds went silent again, apart from a soft tap of someone who started recording.

"Maybe I wanted your jacket." the drummer shrugged, putting his hands in his pockets and watching the boy.

"Well can I have it back?" 

"Maybe." he shrugged casually, clearly loving how enthralled their audience was.

"Whats the catch?" Newt narrowed his eyes in suspicion. 

"I want something in return. A trade if you will."

"A trade? You stole it in the first place!" He laughed, running a hand through his hair. Thomas just set his jaw and watched his boyfriend expectantly.

"No trade no jacket." he hummed simply.

"Fine." the blond huffed. "What do you want?" The drummer hummed in thought, before leaning forward, catching the boys ear in a whisper.

"I want a kiss." he breathed. That alone was enough to send shivers down Newt's spine.

"But we haven't told them yet." he whispered back. Thomas hummed slightly, breathing down his boyfriends neck. The blond almost squirmed under the feeling.

"Well don't you think it's about time we did." 

"Yes. Yes I do." Newt bit his lip to avoid the grin threatening to appear and stepped away from Thomas. "You're sure thats what you want?" He said, including the fans back into their conversation.

"Nothing else." Thomas shrugged. Newt didn't have to be told twice. He caught the brunettes lips in a kiss, pressing their bodies together and snaking his hands into Thomas' dark hair. The brunette immediately responded, pulling the blond flush to his chest by the waist. Newt didn't really hear the cheers, or the screams about getting it on video, as a warm hand found its way to his bare skin, snaking up the cloth of his shirt. Part of him knew he should bat the hand away, but Thomas was too warm and his touch was addictive, so he only sunk deeper.

Much to his despair, Thomas eventually pulled away, and despite Newt's need to take a deep breath, he whined at the lack of contact.

"As nice as that was babes," the brunette hummed, leaning back down to the blonds ear, "I'd prefer it if we could pick this back up later, when we're not surrounded by people." Newt groaned in annoyance: later seemed like too long for him. "Trust me." Thomas murmured. "As soon as we're done with the show, I'll have that jacket on the floor."

Newt definitely heard the screams that time.


End file.
